


Strange Love

by Azurite



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Physical Abuse, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2001-09-19
Updated: 2001-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5012542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurite/pseuds/Azurite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another time, another place, Akane is already married to Ranma. He holds dark secrets and deep fears that Akane vows to discover... but at what cost to herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Unthinkable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REVISED: 9/19/2001  
>  **Edits:** 10/16/2015
> 
> A Ranma ½ Fanfiction  
>  **By:** Azurite 
> 
> **Genre:** Angst/Romance
> 
> _*And the people start wondering about Azurite's sanity...*_
> 
> _**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ranma in any size, shape, or form. I'm a penniless student! However, I do own this plotline, so don't take or borrow without asking first, ne?_
> 
> _**Stuff You Should Know:** I thought this up one night (September 17th, around 2ish in the morning, to be exact) and thought it would make for an interesting plot. I seem to have a thing for the Nanban mirror... but that's all you're going to find out about this fic without reading it! Hehee... -_-;;_
> 
> _Hm. Out for one day, and I'm already unsatisfied. Don't get me wrong, I had 18 reviews, and that's pretty good for one day on the site. But two of them-- the only two "flame-worthy" reviews, were the ones that really got my attention. One person said that s/he would never read my stuff again, regardless of a rewrite, so oh well. But I was unsatisfied with what I put out, and didn't think about it much until too late. I really want to flesh out this series, and make it long. It has potential, regardless of what others think._
> 
> _My personal disclaimer is that yes, this fic contains physical abuse. Not the kind you would have in this world, but abuse all the same. My original version didn't portray things accurately, and I believe that as a writer, and someone who has experience in this area --and no, I'm not a shrink or counselor-- I can write this. I'm changing the style of this fic to fit Akane and Ranma's perspectives, instead of an omnipotent, all-seeing being._
> 
> _What didn't allow this fic to work the first time around was my rushiness. In the real world, time can be felt and sensed, but not forced. It's a gravity that we have no control over. Things are going to progress in them as I see fit. ^^; Writer's control._
> 
> _**About the Ranma/Akane thing:** I **never** said that people "deserve" to be hit. I don't believe such a... it doesn't even have a name. I just don't believe that-- not even in slapstick humor, where people wield large mallets and can can thrown into the next city over. Abuse is a very scary and cruel thing. Some people have no control over what they do to others, and other people willingly hurt others, in a sadistic and inhumane way. Even dealing with Ranma and Akane, Ranma doesn't always get hit by Akane with reason-- that's one of her faults, jumping to conclusions. But likewise, she doesn't always "deserve" to get teased. Even if Akane is a fictional character, I can relate to her. I hate it when people make fun of me, insult my integrity, and my honor. They mean a lot to me as a person, and having your self-esteem or ego crushed is not fun. It damages who you are. Worse, past events -ones that don't get covered in manga and anime, due to their realism- like death don't get covered. They make up a big portion of someone's lifestyle and personality. So authors CAN take liberties with characters, because they each see a certain person from a different point of view-- based on their own, real-life experiences, and their perspectives on the history of the character._
> 
> _I know I'm turning this into a rant, but I just had to get that off my chest. I'm not a hypocrite. I respect any and all authors-- even lemon writers, and those that kill off every character. People have their own reasons for writing the way they do, with the context and material they do. Fanfictions exist to throw out of whack the existing plotlines, or to finish what was left... "unfinished". I am all for creativity and originality, but it is MY preference and opinion that it's trashing an author's work to screw up couples when there is obvious evidence to the contrary. But, likewise, where would be so many great fics without those "other possibilities"? So I'm looking at these issues from both sides-- not bashing any one._
> 
> _I'm done-- you can judge for yourself now. What follows is my revised fanfiction, "Strange Love"._

I should explain things. My name is... well, you all know me, anyways. I'm Akane. But wait! Not the Akane you know. I'm Akane Saotome, married to Ranma Saotome for almost 18 months now. But he's not the Ranma you know. He never was.

It all started that fateful day. You know which day I mean-- the one where we were all going about our business, and then Dad just **drops** the bomb on us. His best friend and former training partner is coming to stay with us-- and his son, too. But Dad's never met the son. Nabiki is excited-- she wants to know if he's cute.

If you've known Nabiki long enough, 'cute' is code for 'gullible.' I love my sister, but after Mom died, she didn't have much of a purpose to fall back on. She'd never been one for the Art, so she filled her whole life with financial affairs. Her excuses for her "money-grubbing" as the better half of my high-school called it, was that without Dad teaching classes, we needed the money. We were too young to get legal jobs, so her system of placing bets at school events was the next best thing.

I should let Nabiki talk about herself. Not to be egotistical or anything, but this is about me.

So Dad tells us these guys are coming-- all the way from China. Can you hear my sarcasm here? Not impressed. At least, that's not how I came off to most people. I'd been stuck in the same ward all my life. I'd never left Nerima. I'd never gone to any of the other wards in Tokyo. Actually, the **one** , count it, **one** time I left Nerima was just after Mom's funeral, when I was six.

The family went to Ryugenzawa-- but you know that story too.

So I was stuck here in Nerima, inevitably for years to come. I was torn between wanting to stay, where the small bits of my good memories-- times with Mom, when everyone was a family, and we **did** things together-- were here. Elsewhere, I tried to convince myself, I'd be alone. Vulnerable. And Akane Tendo-- as I'd been at the time-- would **never** be vulnerable. It's not like I'd promised my mother on her deathbed that I would be strong.

Fact is, I never saw my mom when she died. Of all times and places I could have been, I was with my friends. We were playing Jan-ken-pon over who got to use the Nintendo next when Yuka's mother came out, pale and trembling.

"Akane," she called to me, "Please come inside."

I looked to my friends in bewilderment, thinking I was in trouble or something. But Yuka's mom had checked the answering machine. I heard the last bits of the message playing as I went inside-- it sounded like Father, screaming. Not the angry kind of scream, but a scared, hurt scream. I look back and recognize it as that, but back then, I didn't know who or what it was. I thought it was some prank that Yuka and her mom had set up to scare me with.

Yuka's mom sat me down, next to Yuka. Predictably, my other friend, Sayuri, was asked to go upstairs. She glued herself to the Nintendo for the hour it took for things to be explained to me. Mother was dead, Yuka's mom said.

She'd been in an accident. Fell from a cliff. Wasn't... wasn't supposed to be in that area. Was supposed to be more careful than that. Now she was dead.

"You're... you're joking me, right?"

When Yuka's mom had said that my mother had been in an accident, I remembered my mom that morning. She was excited about something. She was meeting with an old friend from high school that afternoon. I had left for Yuka's just before she was due to leave. I waved to her from the street as I left, forgetting to say 'I love you.'

I look back on that now, and it stings. I feel like I could have done something. Even having said, 'Mom, I love you' would have been something. I remember these moments sporadically, and people wonder why I'm all-of-a-sudden depressed.

I burst into tears. Yuka was there for me, but as a shoulder only. Yuka's mother asked me if I wanted to go home, or stay here a while. Go home, I said, immediately. As if I would stay. No... it **couldn't** be true. It just COULDN'T.

Yuka's mother called Dad to let him know, but he was still hysterical. I'm not sure who it was-- maybe a police officer, maybe Kasumi or Nabiki. Someone who obviously was calm in the face of what had just happened explained the details again. Yes, I was needed at home. Come now. That was all.

When I got home, I'd never seen so many policemen. Father was in the center of it all, explaining things as calmly as he could-- he was still in hysterics. To this day, he still has those hysterics when things get bad. I don't think he wants to lose anyone else important to him. Maybe crying isn't manly or honorable or whatnot, but when your very life is ripped out from under you, you don't have much semblance of how you look to others left.

So I acted as the statue for Father. You would have thought it would be Kasumi or Nabiki, being the silent, all-observing, calm girls they are. But they were just as hysterical as father. The loss of their mother at so young-- and I was no exception, being only six years old, traumatized them. Kasumi was, from that very day, responsible for being the mother figure. Father refused to let her drop out of school, despite her protests. He fed the same excuse to Nabiki, who also begged to get out of school. We had to get our education. Had to be smart and savvy when we were older, so we could take over the dojo, like Mother had wished.

Mother hadn't **really** wished. She was adept in the Art, I'll give her that, but having three children kind of puts strings on your abilities to practice anything. She seemed to be more interested in music than anything else. In fact, she got all of us involved in playing... but that's for later on.

From that day forward, the Tendos changed.

Kasumi juggled being the mother of us all, even between school. It was most stressful for her before high school entrance exams, because I had gotten sick with the chicken pox, and Nabiki was cutting classes for who-knows-what reason. She was almost suicidal. Counseling had put her back on the right track, and she's been steady since then.

But me? No. I was just entering a new school that coming year-- after all, I was old enough to be in first grade. My teachers all knew what had happened and sympathized. But my friends didn't know at all. My new friends must have pitied me at first. I'm still friends with them now, but I still wonder if the only reason they stuck around me was because I was so unstable.

I hated the world, I hated people, and I hated myself. I got over it. Sort of. My personality got stuck in this running loop, though. I was dubbed a 'bitch' for all my years to come, even at such a young age. Seven years old, and I was the outcast. I had to suffer six more years of this?

I made friends with other outcasts. I lost some friends, gained others. I started crushing on a guy who had actually been at the funeral. I probably didn't remember him too well because I'd been so traumatized. I felt I had to act as the support for my family, and had always let my relatives babble to me, cry on me, or talk to me in their plastic, sympathetic tones.

But he'd been the shoulder I'd cried on. I realized, in my sixth and final year in elementary school, that I loved him. He'd spoiled me rotten throughout fourth and fifth year, giving me roses and game cards; jewelry and origami boxes. But by sixth year, we didn't talk much. We were never in the same classes. He was an outcast too, but the kind that moved up the social ladder.

Come junior high, he ignored me. Then hated me. Outwardly teased me. I spent hours sobbing with my friends, mourning my losses. I wrote depressing poems and stories for class, and always dedicated them to my 'Mother, an angel' and my friends. But beneath all that depression and tears, people saw something in me.

I earned true friends, regardless of my behavior towards them. Even when I was violent and threatening, dramatic and upset, people stood tall. People fought back. I started to crave that kind of friendship, where I couldn't just talk to someone, but argue with them, and sleep that night, knowing he or she was still my friend.

People asked me how many friends I have. I used to retort with all sorts of snappy comments-- "More than you, loser!" or "Enough to please." Other times I would get so annoyed I would just shout a string of curses, or worse, actually count of my friends. That made the people teasing me grin from ear to ear, knowing I could actually count my friends on one or two hands.

Now, that fact doesn't bother me too much. I never liked popularity. I'd been popular once, for a short while in fifth year elementary. But I did something horrible to my best friend, and things were never the same. I wish now that I'd been slightly more mature back then. Taken advice from Kasumi and Nabiki, who seemed infinitely older and wiser than me at the time.

But that's the way time works, isn't it? Always forward. Looking back to things doesn't change them or you-- if anything, you get depressed. I try not to think about the bad things. It doesn't make me ignorant, but it makes me strong. I think of those bad things only when I need to remind myself why I have to be strong. Why I don't have to stand for teasing, prejudice, or abuse.

Practice what you preach, they said. If only I'd listened...

* * *

Where was I? I was explaining my attitude towards this guy, Ranma, showing up, with his father, from a long training trip in China.

I hadn't made a big deal about it mostly because I was afraid. For two reasons, I was afraid. I was afraid, first of all, that I would actually make a new friend. And he would leave me, just like Ayeka did, and like Tojigamura did. Ayeka, Mother had told me, when I first made friends with her in kindergarten, was a bad seed. Popular or no, she wouldn't be my friend forever. Regardless of circumstances, she warned, I would lose her. How right she was. Tojigamura, on the other hand, was that boy I'd crushed on for so long, then lost to my own stupidity of giving him what he wanted-- in other words, things that made me look even worse than I already did. Then he left. The boy I'd crushed on, needed, and even loved, was gone. It's still a hole in my heart.

So I was afraid of loss. The second thing I was afraid of was that he would be like those other boys at school. Jumping to conclusions about who I was, based on my face, or on what they heard. He would hate me before he even knew me, and then I would always regret that lost chance, the chance I had to make a friend.

Better not to be impressed with him. Not ot fawn over him, and feed his ego. Because doing things like that led them to believe they were above you, and they would leave you eventually, one way or another. That's what had happened with Tojigamura, why not this Ranma guy?

But things were different with Ranma.

For starters, he came to the house-- as a she. I'll admit, I was never big on fantasy. I liked anime and manga, but it wasn't until my fifth year in grade school that I became an avid fan. I needed it to escape my problems. Other people saw it as a fun hobby, a bad obsession, or a silly escape. But when something out of an anime suddenly appears on your doorstep, in the form of a panda and a aquatranssexual boy... or girl, whichever-- you get a bit scared.

My foundation, my walls, that I had spent so long putting up... it was starting to crumble. If things like curses were real, then how could I be so sure that my heartache with Ayeka and Tojigamura was over? That Mother was really gone? Was I doomed to suffer?

If things were bad then, they only got worse. You see, I didn't know about Ranma's curse until I walked in on him in the bath-- a total accident, mind you.

When he first arrived, as a girl, Nabiki had chastised him-- for not being male. Of course, she hadn't known about the curse at the time. I think she was just disapointed at having lost a potential gullible customer-- guys didn't see through Nabiki's ways as fast as girls did.

Whatever the case, Kasumi urged Ranma, soaking wet from the rain, to take a bath. I didn't know. I was angry from having gotten beaten in a fight by Ranma.

"I'm so glad you're not a boy," I'd told him afterwards. Her. Whatever. If I had only noticed the hurt look on Ranma's face... but here I am again, dwelling on the past, and wishing for things I can't have...

Sweaty from the fight, and a bit of practice I'd forced myself to do afterwards, Nabiki told me haul myself to the bath. I stunk. She was right. So I went upstairs and into the bathroom. Took off my clothes and expected to soak until I was raisin-y all over.

Hence my surprise at seeing a completely naked boy in the bathtub. Don't get me wrong, I like guys. People in junior high whispered behind my back that I was a lesbian. Girls strayed away from me, and my only friends for the longest time were Yuka and Sayuri. But homosexuality isn't as accepted here in Japan as it is elsewhere. So people saying that about me was crushing to my ego.

I blushed fever-red, nearly dropped my towel, and left without a word. Such was my surprise that, on auto-pilot, I reverted to what I fondly call 'bitch-mode.' That's me-- I say that to my friends, and they click their tongues.

"Bitch, Akane? You're not a bitch. You're just melodramatic."

But I'm actually **proud** to be a 'bitch.' Long after I adopted the title, Nabiki told me that in some places, 'bitch' is an acronym for 'Babe In Total Control of Herself.' I like that. I want to believe I'm in control of myself-- not that my emotions are, my history is, or some kind of predetermined destiny.

Then, I screamed. Ran outside in my robe, grabbed a stone birdhouse, and tromped back inside. Such was my adrenaline rush that my arms didn't even tire as I held the easily-70 kilograms over my head.

When I arrived in the hall, that same young man stood there, fully clothed this time, and staring at his feet.

"I'm Ranma Saotome," he said, scratching behind his ear, "Sorry about this."

* * *

Sounds... normal enough, right? To a point, I suppose. But after our **engagement** was announced, things between Ranma and I really went from bad to worse. I wasn't sure if he'd ever forgive me for walking in on him, branding him a pervert (in front of my family, no less), and saying that "I'm glad you're not a boy" in the dojo. True, I hadn't known better, and nobody's perfect... but my past likes to guilt-trip me.

Ranma was a sort of introvert-- the opposite of me. How could we possibly get along?

The way my sisters explained it, he was a girl half the time. We had to get along. BBZT! Wrong. Being a girl didn't mean he had a girl's mind, or a girl's problems. He hated being a girl, and outwardly said the first few times we, and I must emphasize this, **tried** to spar, that girls were weak.

I wanted to slap him for being a chauvanistic pig. I wanted to yell at him that girls were plenty strong-- he had no idea who he was talking to, or what I had been through. To my own surprise, I malleted him. I still have no idea where that darn thing comes from, or how I started using it. But when my emotions get the better of me, I can pull it out from thin air.

The scariness didn't begin until the second week. Ranma's father-- Genma Saotome-- and my father, were ecstatic about our engagement, and the joining of the two schools that made up the Anything Goes line. They insisted, even though Ranma and I were only freshmen in high school, that we marry.

I swore that Ranma would disagree, but he didn't. Three against one meant the odds were against me, so I said yes. We were married the next Sunday. Luckily, or unluckily, as I look at it from time to time, we didn't have school the following week. Spring break. Ranma came at just the right time for everything in my life to go to hell-- **again**.

Kasumi, Nabiki, Genma and my father left us for a whole week, expecting something. I knew very well what they expected. They wanted their heir, and they wanted it then and there. But I was only 16. Still learning about life, and love, and here I was, bound by honor to a guy I barely knew.

But I wanted to know him. I wanted to see what was past that shell, that wall he put up. I found that we shared a lot of things in common besides the Art. Things that I had to notice on my own, because he rarely talked to me. When he did, it was to say something insulting. To get my juices going, I guess. It worked. I always got overemotional and upset when he acted so condescending and egotistical. Not to mention rude, insensitive... anyways, we fought. A lot. Our methods were unconventional, but that was what Anything Goes was founded on. A principle of any situation-- any time, anywhere, you have to be ready to fight, with what you have.

So Father and Genma were displeased that at the end of Spring Break, Ranma and I appeared no closer to being friends than a rabbit and a fox. We were sparring when they got home. Not making out, and certainly not in bed together. I think Kasumi and Nabiki were relieved. So was I. While I learned to like, and even respect Ranma, I wasn't ready to sleep with him yet, let alone have a child.

There were other girls in this world who had no choice. They'd been raped, molested, or in a situation where there was nothing else. I was glad that I had some semblance of control, at least when it came to my body and my future.

Time passed. Part of Ranma opened up to me, I guess, but there was still so much he was hiding. I wanted to poke and prod at his secrets until we were on the same level. If he thought he knew how it felt to love and lose, to have your role model die on you, and to be teased constantly, then I had to know how and why. I couldn't be friends, and certainly not fiancees with someone who never spoke.

He stung like a scorpion with his words. Sometimes, I took things in stride, marking his insults off as playful comments. Or perhaps he was just trying to get me riled up for one of his odd training sessions again. Or maybe I was just too afraid to see what really lay underneath the exterior of handsome-guy-with-talent, big-mouth, and-pigtail.

You know the idea that bottling up your emotions is bad... because you'll blow up at those you love and cherish the most? I believe it. It's happened to me, and it happened to Ranma.

An old "friend" of his, Ryoga Hibiki, showed up. They got into a fight over something stupid. I ended up with ten centimeters less hair, not to mention a bruised ego.

I suppose I should tell you that, after Tojigamura, I didn't stop liking guys. People might have called me a lesbian, but it's not as if they had anything to base their "information" on. I had a crush-- just not on a boy. Rather, a man. A man I knew very well I couldn't have, and I suppose that's why he was appealing. Five years my senior, and a complete fool around my eldest sister, Dr. Tofu was the epitomy of everything I wanted to need. The stereotypical perfect man, but not **my** perfect man.

I look back on my foolishness of the day, and wonder what possessed me to like the good doctor. Really like him. I think I'd admired him for a while, maybe even been jealous over Kasumi and her talents and popularity... but really, I just wanted someone to be my shoulder, my hand to hold, and my friend.

Then Ranma came, and I fell back on that old admiration to deny that what I felt for Ranma wasn't love. It took time to grow on me. Even though I was almost immediately married, not to mention forced. How can you love someone that is forced to marry you within two weeks of your meeting?

I'd always been insistent on marrying someone I loved. I was stuck on that age old idea of having 2.5 kids, a dog, and a picket fence. But that kind of thing didn't happen in Tokyo, not in this day and age, and certainly not to martial artists. That was just the way things WERE.

I slapped him. For the first time, I slapped Ranma. He'd said to, just as Ryoga had. I again, was torn between doing what I wanted to do (which was run away crying like the baby I felt like) or slapping him and Ryoga silly for ruining what I considered my life (my hair). Again, I think I was more immature than anyone could have given me credit for. Crying over cut hair is like crying over spilt milk-- what's done is done... and so be it.

Maybe I hit him harder than I thought. There was a tiny bruise, and an imprint there, even the next day. After my actions, I always felt guilty, but too proud to say so. I didn't want to set myself up to get stung again, and I sure as hell didn't want to feed Ranma's ego. He was strong, he was brave... but he was also human, and I wanted him to recognize that, so that one day, he could **talk** to me.

I suppose you could call what I was trying to do 'teaching the teacher.' Only I didn't have a lesson plan. I was doing thing improv-style, as I went along. Anything Goes, right? Wrong.

I must have hurt him with more than a slap. Things were rocky between us after that. I had no idea why they got as jagged as they did. I needed someone to cry on. I was feeling weak and rotten all the time, and still being too proud to talk to Ranma, too afraid to open up to the introvert who was such an unknown to me... and too silly to turn to my own sisters.

I found a tiny black piglet. I named him P-chan. Ranma didn't like him, not one bit. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. Whenever I tried to ask Ranma, that damned wall went back up again, and I was stuck without knowing.

I spent my nights holding P-chan, wishing for courage, bravery, and above all, the heart to tell Ranma that I was falling in love with him. Who'd've thought, after all? Most of the time, I was still the bitch I made myself out to be. I jumped to conclusions because I was afraid. I was always so damned scared that if, for once, anyone had told me the straight and brutal truth to my face, I might have collapsed.

That's what I did to others, regardless of feeling, and that was why things between Ranma and I were so tense. I didn't **try** enough. I cried into P-chan's soft black fur. The nights he disappeared without explanation, I barely slept. Pig or no, I needed that living thing, that idea that someone out there, somewhere, wanted to --could-- listen to me.

Then **they** came. As if you have to ask, you know who. The first of the bunch was Shampoo. Renowned Amazon fighter, from the Joketsuzoku tribe of Central Qinghai, China. I met her at the Kolkhoz Ice Skating rink, in a match versus the Golden Pair of Tokyo-- two student skaters with mental issues.

The battle was over P-chan, who I was not ready to give up yet. Ranma was my untrained skating partner, yet things somehow swerved into him being paired up with Ryoga on the ice-- with Ranma as a girl. I think it must have been more humiliating for him on the ice than anyone else-- so I tried to 'help' by yelling at him for stealing my place.

We got tossed together again, and then fate decided to play a mind game with us. Or maybe it was a game of hearts. In any case, our lives were at stake, and all because two crazy skaters wanted to mess with us.

Mikado Sanzenin wanted to kiss me, while his immature partner, Azusa, wanted P-chan -or Charlotte, as she called him- to add to her collection of 'cute.' They trapped us in their final deadly attack-- you see, it was Martial Arts skating. As I've said before, Anything Goes.

So they caught us in their spinning, nauseating, whirlwind attack, where Mikado spun rapidly, Azusa was being held up by him, and Ranma was held by Azusa. Ranma was hanging onto me by my hands and wrists alone. He held me so tightly that I had bruises on my wrists afterwards. It was so unlike him, but consdering the situation, I cut him some slack.

After all, he was an introvert. He wouldn't tell me anything if it cost him his soul, let alone his life. The technique was meant to 'cleave' a couple's relationship --not that the married one that Ranma and I had was all that stable to begin with-- when one person let go of another. Inevitably, someone would get hurt. The faster the technique, the more fatal to whoever was dropped.

Being on the outside, spinning like a top, was no joy ride, if you'll excuse the pun. Not only was I nauseous, but Ranma wouldn't let go. I screamed and yelled at him to let go, if only to save himself, and I think for the first time, he opened up. A string of compassion fell into him, and he said that he wouldn't let go, not if I begged him! True to his word, he hung on, until that blasted Azusa was too dizzy to keep hanging on to Ranma's ankles.

But all of a sudden, it wasn't just **my** life in danger, but both of ours. In the split second it took for us to go flying towards the rink's walls, Ranma performed an amazing soumersault in mid-air, completely blocking me from the wall. I crumpled against him like a rag doll.

But he wasn't moving. For the first time in my life since my Mother's death, I felt that irrational fear of losing someone I didn't know I needed. I needed him so much, I hardly realized it. Or why. I felt very much his wife at that moment, and I cried to him to come back. He did.

Maybe that compassion was gone, or maybe it was just dulled. He got into another fight with Ryoga in his girl form, despite his weakness. But those words he'd said, just before Mikado had tried to kiss me, stayed with me forever.

"You touch her and I'll kill you!"

Maybe it didn't frighten me as much as it should have. People in the audience gasped. Others, the more arrogant Kolkhoz students, didn't think that **anyone** could defeat Mikado of the Golden Pair. Especially the jerk's own cheerleading squad. But I was touched. He felt that much protection for me?

Any of my guy friends might have threatened a fist fight, but never death. I suppose that was my first warning. After the rink got smashed into pieces, and I was awake again (I'd nearly drowned), a new enemy showed up. Shampoo, out to kill Ranma's girl half. But she had no idea Ranma was really male...

If that was just a sampling of my life with Ranma to come, then I'd only seen the appetizers. Following Shampoo came her blind suitor, Mousse. Once Shampoo left, upon discovery of Ranma's curse and its true nature, he too, left. They both got cursed.

I forgot to mention-- Kuno. The House of, to be exact. Tatewaki Kuno had caused me problems since the first day of school. Perhaps he'd heard about me in advance from Nabiki, or maybe the dojo's reputation was wider-spread than I knew. But in any case, he managed to get all the boys in the school to think they could **date** me if they defeated me. Yeah, right.

This pissed Ranma off too, and he actually helped me dwindle the number of fool-hardly, hormone-incensed boys to a scant few. Then there was Kuno. After Spring Break, he took our marriage as 'foul sorcery.' But since I wasn't altogther unhappy, Kuno was forced to lay off, or risk having a restraining order placed on him-- thus embarassing his 'noble house.'

To this day, he only bothers me in passing, as a sort of joke. I don't think Ranma likes it any more, but all the same, at least he's not giving me flowers, jewelry, or buying pictures of me.

With the arrival of Team China in Japan again, Ranma gained Shampoo as a 'legal suitor.' Her laws supposedly outweighed marriage claims and certificates, and she would pursue Ranma until she defeated him or he married her. Since Ranma didn't seem big on multiple marriages (and thank God for that), Shampoo was, for the most part, a nuisance. Her spells and potions added both spice and problems to our married life, but I owe her some credit.

I saw more of Ranma when Shampoo showed up. He was forced to explain a part of his part to me, and I was only too willing to listen. But the problems came with the blessings. Shampoo was an avid glomper-of-men. Especially her 'Airen.' I got pissed when I saw Shampoo attached to Ranma like that. Maybe it fed Ranma's ego, just like I **didn't** want, when I got pissed off and jealous, and part of me agrees. I was jealous-- that I couldn't provide the affection Ranma deserved after ten years on the road. But as far as I could tell, love was a two-way street. If he didn't show me any, I couldn't give myself to him.

When I said that to myself, I began noticing that Ranma really didn't want to be with Shampoo. He wanted to get rid of her, and possiby even set her up with her blind suitor. But oftentimes, his pride got the better of him, and he refused to deal with Cologne, Shampoo's great-grandmother, that was at the core of the problem. So he came home with an extra burden on his shoulder, and I couldn't help him.

So he took his anger out on me.

I should inject here that we had been sleeping together for some time. Mind you, sleeping together didn't mean we were having sex. I hadn't seen a bit of Ranma naked since the day we met-- save his exhibitionist displays as a girl. We slept in the same room, on the same futon, and sometimes even woke up in each other's arms. But that was all. He was always up before me, so I never woke up to that dream of being in warm, protected arms. Waking up to a kiss on my forehead, or a caress on my back. It was too much to hope for.

Our fights, once interesting, challenging, and even fun for me, took a dangerous turn. Ranma started fighting back, blindly. His rules about injuring girls went out the window, and it was as if he were someone else-- and so was I. I was a target, someone to take his anger, hurt, and power out on.

I fought back as best I could the first time, but not gotten away unscathed. I had a bruise on my upper arm, and a series of them on my left calf. No big deal. After it was all over, and I was heaving, Ranma was staring at me. I got up, pain striking my leg like a poker, and that was when he ran off. Just like that. I waited up all night in bed for him, telling him it was okay-- and thanks for the workout... but he never came. At first, I thought he actually might have gone to Shampoo's restaurant, the Cat Café, to spend the night with **her**... after all, **she** could fight... not to mention the fact that she was beautiful, and well-endowed for male and female tastes.

But Kasumi told me he slept on the roof. I never had the courage to ask him why.

Whenever the fights happened, I didn't ask questions. I fought back for as long as I could, and then I collapsed. Usually Ranma stopped then. When Yuka and Sayuri noticed bruises and limps, they began to ask questions, but I reassured them. When I came to school with a sprained arm, they told me that I had to get help. I said I was fine; I was a martial artist, and I had to learn to take this kind of pain.

"It's not pain, Akane, it's abuse! He's hurting you to please himself!"

"Please. He's not pleasing anyone. It's not as if he laughs maniacally or rapes me or anything," I told Yuka and Sayuri as quietly as I could manage, during passing period. "Besides, we're married."

I think that was the statement that cinched it. Being married was no excuse, they said. Then they turned around and left the class.

Nabiki approached Ranma and I at lunch, and told Ranma, rather blatantly, that if he ever touched me in anger again, she would make his life miserable. That only got him angrier at me, and I was suddenly scared.

Maybe Yuka and Sayuri were right-- I needed help. Help with my martial arts, I thought at first, to help me get better, and give Ranma the fight he longed for. Help with my people skills, so I could finally talk to Ranma and tell him... anything.

Even Kuno seemed to get worried about me. There were times when my injuries should have prevented me from coming to school. Excuses were running low, and both Kasumi and Nabiki were getting suspicious. Father and Genma --I never referred to him as Father-- turned a blind eye to my injuries, or attributed them to my constant 'practice sparring' with Ranma. Perhaps it was a shared conviction that girls were weak. Yes, I'd tell them sarcastically one day, I'd broken my leg while walking to school. That was how.

How wrong I would be. Ranma seemed to have a darker side of him than I ever could have imagined. Deep secrets, a hidden fear that I couldn't touch. That he wouldn't allow me to touch, even in our most private and... quiet moments. Any chance for passion between us was slowly dying out. I wanted him, it was true, but I was still not ready.

Not mentally, and with my growing number of injuries, and their slow healing, not physically. He would never want me, I assured myself. Why else would he fight with me so? Over stupid things, usually, or sometimes without explanation at all.

Then there were those days that he just seemed to forget that I ever fought him, ever insulted him. Days when we held hands, and I felt like his wife again. That love I was so unsure of came back full force those days, but died a quick death the moment something bad happened.

Bad would be Shampoo, or Ryoga fighting Ranma for some odd reason. Or Happosai, Father and Genma's old, perverted, panty-stealing master. Then the cycle would start all over again.

I don't know when I finally decided that it had to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _End of Chapter 1: The Unthinkable. This is the "prequel" to the events of my original Strange Love story. The events of the original SL storyline (still revised) will follow in Chapter 2, "Different Circumstances"._
> 
> _If you haven't already, please scroll to the top, and read my disclaimers._
> 
> _**End Note 1:** The events of this story are, in some parts, true. The death of Akane's mother, as described, happened to me, but regarding a different family member. 'Ayeka' and 'Tojigamura' are real people. Abuse happens. It's sad, and often unstoppable. If you or someone you know is being abused, get help. It's the best thing you can do for everyone involved, and their futures._
> 
> _Thanks for your time! Go read chapter 2, and be sure to email me!_


	2. Different Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A married Akane Saotome is desperate to know what drives her husband's abuse. An unaware Akane Tendo is about to discover that asking "what if?" is the most dangerous question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Trigger warnings for physical abuse**_
> 
> **By:** Azurite - [azurite [at] seventh-star [dot] net](mailto:%61zur%69%74%65%40%73%65v%65%6e%74h%2d%73ta%72%2e%6e%65t?subject=Re:%20Strange%20Love%20\(A%20Ranma%201/2%20Fanfiction\))   
> 
> 
> **_The events of Chapter 1:_ ** _A different Akane, one that was married to Ranma within two weeks of their initial meeting, relates to us her life. Ranma is a different person—an introvert whose life has been turned upside down. Akane wants to help him, learn from him, and talk with him, but he refuses to tell her anything. When their forced marriage and fragile relationship goes from bad to worse, Ranma inadvertently takes his anger out on Akane. Their sparring matches become violent and uncontrolled. Akane is learning to fend for herself the hard way, but she is not getting away unscathed. Her friends and sisters start to worry, and tell her to get help, and get away from Ranma’s apparently sadistic behavior, but she will not. Despite their odd relationship, she finds herself in love with him. In a desperate attempt to get him to open up, Akane stays with him. But she’s getting fed up. When will it all stop?_
> 
> _**Disclaimer:** Ranma ½ and all associated characters and events do not belong to me. However, this storyline does belong to me. The idea that Ranma is the bad guy is one not used too often, or one not used properly. I want to use this opportunity to explore a very real, very controversial issue—because that’s who I am, and what I do. You have been forewarned._
> 
> _**Notes:** I will not post the original SL anymore. The events of that original story posted will take place during this part and the next. The events described—abuse, rape, and death, are very real. I’ve experienced my share of hardships, and I do not wish to offend anybody. These events are real. While I’m using fictional characters, the idea behind this remains the same. I’m trying to capture a bit of “another Akane” that we don’t see too often. Emotions, cause-and-effect, and action/reactions a part of life. So they’re in my fic._

Eighteen months of living with Ranma Saotome, and you’d think I’d get used to the craziness. The fiancées, the curses, the monsters, the goals for springs, and the fear of cats.

The name’s Akane Tendo. I’m 17. Almost 18. When I was 16, I got engaged to the son of one of my dad’s old training partners. Over the years, we’ve been through hell, seen wonders to baffle and boggle the mind, and gotten closer and farther apart for it. For better or for worse, thanks to Ranma and his (mis)adventures, I’m a changed person.

 We almost got married last month.

I say that, and I still can’t believe it. It’s sort of like when Mom died, only getting married is supposed to be happy. Right? But when you have other fiancées, not to mention perverted panty-thieves and rivals, holding a wedding—in the craziest ward of Tokyo… suffice it to say it’s a bit difficult.

It failed. I lost my chance, Ranma lost his cure, and the fiancées gained yet another… undefined period of time to seduce or convince Ranma to marry them. Luck—or whatever it was, was not on my side.

But I should let you know, luck **has** been on my side before. Ranma seems a bit like a charm, even if he is pretty unversed in common sense and manners. He’s saved my life and my… well, my state of unmarried-ness on more than one occasion. I’ve been blind-sighted before too, and nearly given up something good before I knew what I had. Thank all that’s holy for Ranma. I’ve said it before; I’ll say it again. I’ll deny it too, but it’s the truth.

But I’ve always wondered, what if? Hypothetical situations seem to be my favorite pastime, even if they annoy me occasionally. They range from any period or event in my life when I’d later wished I’d done something different… or just wondered what it would have been like, to be… not who I am now.

What if Mother hadn’t died?  


What if Nabiki hadn’t sold those pictures of Ranma to Kuno that day?

What if I hadn’t died back in Jusendo?

What if I hadn’t come back?

Haunting questions that I never thought I’d find the answer to. But with fiancées like Ranma, friends like Ryoga and Ukyo, rivals like Shampoo and Kodachi, and enemies like Happosai and Pantyhose Tarou… let’s just say expecting the unexpected, and believing without seeing… is everyday.

It was a rainy summer day, hot and humid. But water was water, and with Ranma outside checking out the city, he was bound to get wet, and therefore come home –to the Tendo Training Hall and Dojo—unhappy. He’d stink, and therefore want to use the bath I had to keep these simple facts in mind, so I wouldn’t repeat past mistakes.

But when you have nothing to base what’s happening on a past event—a mistake—then what are you supposed to do?

* * *

Ranma had, predictably, come home in his girl form. I heard a grunt from outside, and supposed that Ranma had tripped on a slippery rock. Martial artist or no, he wasn’t exactly a god, and able to fight the elements.

Kasumi being out shopping, and Nabiki conversing with her “associates” at a local café, I was alone. That is to say, Father and Genma were out “training” with Master Happosai. Ranma had gone out this morning, and was back now.

I’m not sure what could have surprised me more—the look on his face when he saw me, or the fact that in his arms was an exact double—of me.

* * *

We were silent as he carried her up to my room. Everything about her was like me, save her clothing. While I wore some casual clothes, she was in my—uh, **her** thin yellow gi. Soaking wet to boot, and I hadn’t missed that… well, it wasn’t a gaze, and it was more like Ranma was checking out. In that slang sense, not in the “I’m just seeing if she’s okay” kind of checking-out. You know what I mean… right?

What made it so damn uncomfortable was that she was me! Those hypothetical situations I’d dreamed, wished, or feared were suddenly coming true. But who was she, really? How and why was she here?

Being unconscious and wet was no help, so I forced Ranma into the bath (without actually **forcing him** , exactly) while I undressed… my other self. I wondered how Ranma had “met” her, or how she had come to the dojo unnoticed by the rest of the Nerima population. She had the same short haircut, but there was something distinctly **off** about her. I had yet to find out what.

“What” was a discovery I made very quickly. I stripped my other self of her gi and found myself stumbling back to the carpet. Her whole body —my whole body—was riddled in bruises, cuts, scars, and other assorted injuries.

More than I’d ever had in a lifetime, and they were all on her, various degrees of intensity, all at once. What had happened to her? It was impossible that she could have gotten these recently—some bruises were fading, some cuts were fresh. Some looked to be severe, others weren’t. So how and why did she pass out?

Again, there were too many questions, and not enough answers. I dressed her in a simple blue sweater and yellow skirt ensemble, leaving her without shoes or socks. Though she was ‘me,’ I was too embarrassed to remove her bra and underwear, as wet as they were. If she really _was_ anything like me, then I suppose she wouldn’t mind.

But we’d have to find out if she was anything like me at all… where she was from, and how and why she had gotten here… when she woke up. It was out of our control.

Ranma seemed to rush out of the bath, quite unlike his usual hour-long soaks. He seemed to treasure turning into a veritable prune in the hot water, but considering cold water was his mortal enemy, it was only logical. He wanted to treasure his ‘manhood’ when he had it. Not that it would disappear, but with his lifestyle, “anything could happen.”

He only seemed to hover over her for a moment before he rushed out again, this time reappearing with those strange clove-like pills he had fed me when I had that raging flu. She wasn’t just wet; after all, she was burning up with a fever. I didn’t look at her, but rather, at him. Ranma’s concern for… **me** was amazing.

He tilted her chin up with one finger, opened her mouth, and not caring that his thumb depressed on her tongue, slipped the pill into her mouth. Apparently, she swallowed, because she didn’t start choking. As if by magic, her feverish red complexion disappeared.

Even though it was the medicine doing the magic, I still felt a little twist in my heart, thinking, ‘ _Ranma really_ is _a miracle man_.’

 All was silent as I tried to come up with something to say—something that wouldn’t result in Ranma hating me, laughing or teasing me. Worse, my other self. I realized yet again that if she were anything like me, she would get insulted, and punt Ranma out the window. Maybe that would be a good thing, so I could talk to ‘myself’ alone, but maybe it wouldn’t. Besides, Ranma had saved her from… whatever made her so sick.

Her injuries were another matter completely, but still…

I hoped she wasn’t like me. Maybe then I could see what a future with something drastically changed would be like. If I’d made a different decision, and continued down a different path.

I knew this much from observation—‘I’ was still a martial artist. As for the  myriad of wounds ‘I’ had, it could mean one of two things, as far as I could tell: I’d tried some stupid technique and overdid it… or I’d been in a really tough battle, with someone out to injure me. Someone possibly out to kill. One of the fiancées, I supposed, but since I didn’t know anything about this ‘other me,’ it could be possible that she didn’t even have rivals such as Ukyo and Shampoo.

How glorious would that be! But things wouldn’t be the same. I’d wondered what life would be like with Ranma if Shampoo and Ukyo weren’t around, and if Kodachi and all those other girls had no interest in him. Would things have been easier between us? If they all disappeared, right here, right now, would our lives be more or less interesting?

I felt like I was wishing for the death of people who I’d grown to respect, and yes, even admire. I’d realized at the failed wedding just how much Shampoo and Ukyo **cared** for Ranma. They loved him, just like…

My thoughts were thankfully interrupted from that track, as the other ‘me’ started to wake up. Ranma removed the damp cloth from her head, while I watched.

“Ugh…” the other ‘me’ groaned. She lifted a hand to her forehead, and, remembering her bruises decorating her arm like war wounds, I was thankful I’d put my baggy Two Hearts sweater on her. It felt strange, not wanting to tell Ranma about another person’s injuries. He had ways to help with every injury, even if he was insensitive half the time. But she was ‘me’ and again, I thought that if she was anything like me, her pride and humility would stand in the way of her own health. Perhaps a ridiculous thing to do, but when you’re injured and you show it, people think you are weak, and helpless. I don’t ever want to be thought of as weak. I sure hope none of my ‘other selves’ do either.

The other me caught sight of Ranma, hovering above her to check on her breathing, and gasped. It was a quiet, rasping gasp, but I heard it all the same. Her eyes were now very wide, face pale. I noticed the faint outlines of a yellow bruise on her cheek. Her left eye was a bit puffier than her right, but other than that, she looked… like me.

Then she screamed.

Ranma ducked and covered his ears, while I cringed. Once her sudden shriek was over, I stared at her. There was a moment of … something. A connection that flared to life, and I suddenly **knew** that Ranma couldn’t be here for this. Whether or not her story concerned him—or rather, his other self, I wasn’t totally sure. But no one should speak to one’s alternate self but his or her own self. Right? It felt selfish at first, but it was what I had to do.

“Ranma, maybe you should go.”

“But why?” Ranma asked, bewildered. I could see how startled he was by the suggestion; it was plain on his face. I ignored it and pointed to the door. Ranma hung his head, and I smiled as he respectfully left us girls alone.

When I was quite assured that Ranma was gone, having looked down both sides of the hall, I closed my door and faced my other self. I tried to smile, but I think she knew that I knew… something. About her bruises, about Ranma. Something was very wrong with her life. That’s why she was here, that’s why she was so injured.

But who was responsible?

* * *

I awoke groggily, my head pounding. It felt as though I had malleted myself, something I felt like doing all too often. I should have listened to Yuka and Sayuri; should have practiced what I preached…

I saw two very familiar eyes hovering above me, and before my vision cleared enough to really look at the owner of those eyes, I screamed. It was as if the barrier that had separated me from my emotions for so long was so much dust.

A month ago, I never would have screamed in my husband’s presence. It was far too risky; let alone screaming at him, in his face. But having “suffered” 18 months of being married to Ranma Saotome did things to your head, and after finally realizing I had to get away from him, even for a short while, the idea that he had followed me terrified me to pieces.

That’s when my vision cleared, and I realized where I was. My old room, back in the Tendo compound. I wanted to get up and kiss all my familiar belongings—the diary underneath the closet floorboard, the teddy bear stuffed next to my red stereo… everything looked the same!

A year after I’d been married to Ranma, Father arranged for Ranma and I to live in the old apartment my mother used to live in during her college years. It was small, but Father didn’t care, and neither did Ranma. In fact, I think Ranma preferred the smallness, while it was driving me insane.

The people—those eyes—they belonged to Ranma all right, but not my Ranma! Even if I was in love with my husband, I needed to escape him—so I was more than ecstatic that this wasn’t the Ranma I knew. However, I didn’t know him, so I couldn’t trust him. There was only one person I could trust.

My other self said something to Ranma—I couldn't make out the words she had whispered, as my head was pounding, the sound of blood rushing in my ears. But he left. That was it. No insults, no jeers. He didn’t hit her. I guess I didn’t expect him to, because this was another time and another place. Maybe she was still 18, maybe she’d been through all the same crap I had, but at least the man she loved –assuming she actually did love her Ranma—was respectful to her. How had she pulled that off?

She turned to me, looking a bit unsure, and more than a bit uncomfortable. It was then I realized I was not wearing my gi, but normal clothes. Having been stuck in the rain for an hour, lost and desperate in my own hometown –of another time and place—had made me miserable. Not to mention sick, which was why I had passed out upon sighting the Ranma of this time. I only remembered staring in astonishment, wondering how and why he could have followed me… then it was dark.

“Maybe I should explain…” I started, getting out from under the covers. My other self moved towards me, concern written on her face. I could tell, because, of course, I was her. She was me.

“You were really sick. You should probably stay in bed a bit longer.” She put her hand on mine, and that’s when I realized she had a kind of sympathy –or maybe it was empathy– for me. She knew of my injuries, and no doubt wondered about them, but was, like me, too proud to ask about them. How would she feel when I told her I got them from my husband, Ranma? What would startle her more—the fact that Ranma was my husband, or the fact that he beat me?

I hope you remember here that I didn’t let him beat me. I’m not someone’s punching bag to be used for target practice. But I’d been through so much with Ranma that I started finding out about those hidden fears and deep secrets. His own bad upbringing, care of his father, was responsible for his crudity and chauvinistic behavior. It was probably also why Father and Genma turned a blind-eye to Ranma taking out his anger on me.

At first, I thought it was just like sparring, but when Ranma started to forget that his opponent was me—regardless of the fact that I was his wife—I couldn’t fight back as hard. He was a different person while fighting. It was as if someone in his head was controlling him and his every move, because my Ranma—the one I had fallen in love with—he never would have hurt me in anger, but that’s just what he did. Yet I couldn’t doubt my love for him. Or my need.

“I’m a bit hungry…” I started. Akane took the hint. She smiled brightly and then walked to the door. Opening it with a cheery thrust, she motioned to me to get out of bed and follow her.

“Maybe I can whip something up…” she murmured. I wondered if this Akane was as horrible as I had been when I first started cooking. If so, I chuckled, I was in for trouble! My own cooking had improved with the help of Kasumi, mother’s notebook, and some high school home economics classes. My incentive, of course, was to please Ranma. Making him happy was my only goal, but in order to do that, I had to find out what displeased him—the hard way.

"Why don’t I?” I suggested, just in case. “I haven’t cooked anything in a while.”

“That’s probably a good idea… heh, I have a bit of a black thumb in the kitchen.” Akane smiled bashfully, scratching behind her ear.

“Me too! Or I used to anyway. I got better.”

“Really? How’d you get better?” she asked me sincerely. I stopped.

I could sense him. Perhaps it was just the other Akane’s Ranma, though. If so, I had to simply play it safe, and make sure he was as trustworthy as he appeared—and as my other self made him out to be.

I chanced to look up, pretending to be discreet, and saw Ranma attached to the beams of the ceiling like a spider. He hung off the rafters with his legs, and, seeing me watch him, he sweat-dropped.

“Hello, Ranma.”

“Uh… hey.” The other Akane turned and looked at him with a semi-furious expression on her face. She looked about to kill him, but something–I had no idea what– just stopped her.

“You better not have been spying on us, Ranma!”

“Why would I want to spy on **two** uncute tomboys?” Ranma asked. I felt a pang strike my heart. The Ranma of my time never insulted me any more, but I wished sometimes that we would. Only if it meant it was a sign that he wouldn’t lose control and think I was someone I wasn’t. If only…

Ranma dropped to his feet without so much as a thump. He grinned boyishly and sauntered off. Akane was fuming, but when he disappeared around a corner, she smiled. I didn’t miss it, but said nothing.

“Come on. We can exchange cooking… uh, tips.” The other Akane smiled as we went downstairs. On the last step, that feeling that had boiled in her, just before fainting from sickness, raged once more.

It was dark, stealthy, and quiet—different from the Ranma of this time, I knew. That’s when I realized… _he_ was here. I paused mid-step, swore under my breath, and paled subconsciously.

“Akane?” The other me said, trying to snap me back to attention. I was attentive all right. I was trying to focus on his aura. It was strong, but tight, preventing me from finding out just how close he was. When I finally thought I had it, he disappeared, as was usual of his power level. Then I realized my fatal mistake.

“Hello, love.” A quiet, dark voice, laced with venom meant for me, and exposed for all to see—and feel. That was the extent of his power—he could make it known through his voice. What was more, he had learned a technique that allowed him to exploit this ability. He could generate ki blasts from his voice. He did it with such ease that it was a wonder he talked to anyone at all, for fear that he would injure them. Then again, I wondered, did he have fear? Sometimes I wondered if he truly was human, but there were times when I had no doubts at all…

Then he appeared in front of us, and I realized—he didn’t know which of us it was. He looked to my other self and then to Akane. My twin must have been masking her emotions rather well, a surprising feat for someone like… well, me, and I supposed her as well. But if her control with the situation back with **her** Ranma was any indication, she had great control over her emotions—an improvement over the past, it seemed.

Then the other Ranma appeared, behind me.

“Who the hell are--” That’s when he noticed the pigtail and distinctive blue eyes. Truly, my Ranma couldn’t be told apart from a shadow nowadays. Even darker, quieter, and deadlier than when he had first arrived at the Tendo dojo, he was far from the Ranma here. He wore all black, from his Mandarin shirt to his slippers. His pigtail was even tied with a thin black cord.

The Ranma of this time cracked his knuckles, as if readying for a fight. He must have sensed the power about my husband. But then he dropped his defenses, and eyed his other self with some scrutiny. All my hopes that I would be protected were quickly flying out the window.

‘ _Ranma… you can’t…!_ ’

“How the hell did Akane get so hurt?” Thank god Ranma—that is to say, this time’s Ranma, didn’t gesture directly to me. My husband could have just whispered and blasted this Ranma back to the wall. I didn’t doubt the talent and skill of this time’s Ranma, but I knew he was too unprepared for the raw violence my husband exhibited on a daily basis. I knew… I was the target.

‘ _How did Ranma know about my injuries?_ ’ I thought. It was possible he just knew, from the weakness of my aura and ki, or he could have seen some of the bruises somehow.

My husband flinched, and for a moment, I thought I saw that compassion again. I latched on to it with all that I had, and stepped forward. My husband’s eyes narrowed again, and he seemed to grin almost demonically when I came forward of my own will.

“Akane!” My twin grabbed my arm. It stung. I had a fresh wound there—a purpling bruise. Her thumb pressed into it, telling me that the pain I was experiencing now would only get worse.

“You… you did this to her?” My twin’s Ranma asked coldly. He stared at his own twin, disbelieving. Akane looked at me with sad eyes, and at Ranma’s twin—my husband—with anger. But neither of them could stand up to Ranma. My husband had defeated monsters, demons, a god reincarnate, and the lord of Mount Phoenix, Saffron…

“Please, love… don’t be angry with them. I just…”

“Ran away! I never thought you would…” I stared at him with emotionless eyes. How could he not believe that I would try?

“I thought we needed some time apart.”

“‘Time apart?!’ What in the seven hells were you thinking--” My husband’s eyes narrowed, but I stopped him with a finger on his lips. This was the closest I’d ever gotten to him in a long time, and if I ‘played my cards right,’ so to speak, then I would get past his defenses long enough so he could listen to me…  

You see, it all started about a week ago. I was getting close to something. Ranma was starting to be open with me, and inside, I felt as though I was helping a lost child. I wanted Ranma to realize I didn’t want to hurt him, and that I was in love with him. He’d proved that he cared for me—regardless of what Yuka, Sayuri, and Nabiki insisted was sadistic behavior. He saved my life—brought me back from the dead. I know I hadn’t imagined things when he’d screamed that he loved me…

For the first time in 18 months, we’d made love. At least, that’s the way I thought of it. He’d had a fight with Ukyo, and thankfully was not in the mood for “sparring” that night. Rather, when he slipped into bed that evening, in our small little apartment, he’d kissed my neck. I went stiff, and froze even as he kissed lower, on my shoulders, and my collarbone.

He had **never** been this intimate before. I was beginning to see a human side of him, one that needed me. Maybe in a more primitive way than I hoped for, but gods, this was a start…

I realized after he’d disposed of my shirt that I was enjoying this sudden change of affections he was displaying. I didn’t feel that surge of fear and unknowing… that fear I’d felt for so long around everybody. I wanted to be with him. Not just to be wanted by him, but because I wanted him too. I was ready.

When I started kissing him back, he paused. His eyes had something in them that I’d never seen before—unrestrained emotion. He was still a little boy at heart. Even if I was immature too, even if I still stung when my history came back to haunt me… I was ready for this. I wanted to help him, and be with him.

I treasure the memories of that night like… well, it has no comparison to anything. It was incredible. That night started something for us. Even if he didn’t realize he was doing it, I heard him whisper that he loved me, while he slept. His arms around me that night, I shared his dreams. Maybe he knew that I saw those shining eyes, and his childish form, quivering in the shadows of a pit of starving cats. His greatest fear.

Following that nightmare, one so real that it left marks, I saw a simple thing—a room, with a woman. Her back was to us, and my now-18-year-old husband stared at her with a melancholy expression. I could not touch him, nor talk to him. I wanted to find out who the woman was somehow, but the answer came to me when the woman turned around. She was faceless, but held a katana in her hand. Poised it at Ranma’s neck, and, defying the laws of nature by speaking without a mouth, proclaimed that Ranma was not manly enough. He was cursed, and had brought dishonor to the family name. The only way to regain it would be through seppuku.

That’s when it all came together. Why Genma stayed with the Tendos, after Ranma and I were already married. Never contacting his wife, and at all costs, being gone or in his panda form whenever she came to call…

Mrs. Saotome had come to the Tendo home a few times before Ranma and I moved out to our own apartment. But she’d never met Ranma; he was either coincidentally gone, or in his girl form. Why he never changed back, I didn’t know. I always saw a sad look in Ranma’s eyes, but could never figure out why. Mrs. Saotome wasn’t very forthcoming with information about her son either—she only said what I already knew—that Ranma had gone on a ten-year training journey, and she hadn’t seen him since he was a young boy.

It wasn’t until I shared that night with Ranma that I realized there must have been some kind of binding agreement between Genma, Ranma, and Mrs. Saotome. If she didn’t deem him ‘manly’ enough, then he would be forced to commit ritual seppuku in order to restore the family honor. And I knew he would do it too—he put honor on a pedestal. A higher one than I, his wife, was on.

All these traumatic events and more, I believed, had shaped him into the introverted man he was. It wasn’t as if he had no control over his actions, but sometimes his emotions… and like me, his history, got the better of him, and he didn’t know what he was doing anymore.

It wasn’t entirely his fault. It was mine too, and it was Genma’s, Nabiki’s, and yes, even Kasumi’s fault. We all were part of his life, and were all responsible for him… and for ourselves, and each other. He was a small child, untaught, fragile, and in need of a guiding hand. A hand that his father was unwilling to provide, and one that his mother was unable to provide.

I felt as though the burden on my shoulders had been lightened. Unlike Nabiki, who would exploit Ranma’s weaknesses, if she knew about them, or Kasumi, who would gently, if not stubbornly, tell Ranma to get over them, I could relate. I had been through some tough heartache too. I had lost my mother, but by marrying Ranma, gained a new one. He had to realize that what he thought he had lost could be found, and regained.

He wasn’t stuck as a heartless man…

I opened my eyes, looking up into his. That fathomless blue that could be either comforting or frightening; swimming with emotions unchecked and untold. He seemed to be contemplating what to do or say next; he never let me get this close, and I suppose he enjoyed it a bit as well, even if wild horses wouldn’t drag that truth out of his lips.

That was when I noticed his barrier. He’d formed a sort of sonic barrier around the room. Visible only in the sense that it looked like one of those mirages you saw on the road on a hot day. Rippling, swirling, but ever present. This, unlike a mirage, was totally real, and very painful should you touch it.

My own instinctual fear rising from my heart to my throat, I slid from around him to his waist—I was now on the floor, clutching at his hips and praying he wouldn’t hurt me… he didn’t need to, and I hoped he realized that, for **both** our sakes….

“You lied to me.”

It was all he said, and I started crying. Not the kind of sobbing, sniffling, heaving cries, but the silent staring cries, like what you get when you watch a sad movie.

“No, Ranma, I wouldn’t…”

“Shut up!” he yelled, and I fell to the floor.

‘ _He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to hurt me…_ ’

I tried to chant that to myself, tried to believe it, but my doubts were resurging with the force of his sonic attack. He was hurting me again. Not helping me. This time, he didn’t have that wild, uncontrolled look in his eyes. He really **wanted** to hurt me.

“What do you want from me?” I sobbed, letting my emotions get the better of me once more. I felt brutalized and upset that I had not listened to all my friends—and even my own sister’s advice. Gods, I wished Kasumi were here, with her strong will and comforting words. But luck was **never** on my side. I was meant to be unhappy all my life, attached by honor to the sadistic man I was in love with…

Why couldn’t I just fall **out** of love with him? Why couldn’t I just leave? It was one of those rhetorical, unanswerable questions. I took the punches, the ki blasts, the cold stares and harsh words because I loved him. I had no idea why. I believed in Ranma. Maybe not in my ability to help him get past his pain…maybe I really wasn’t cut out for that kind of job, but I believed that Ranma’s future, one day, would brighten. That he would be with his mother, and… he could be happy. If not with me, or his family, then someone… someone….

My chest was heaving now, and I felt all eyes on me. That wall I had subconsciously put up after being married to Ranma fell. I had put up a wall to protect myself from the hurt of my classmates. In high school, that reputation of being a callous, cold bitch remained, but I preferred things that way. Then Ranma came, and my wall came down. I saw myself in him, I suppose. But another wall had gone up. Not to protect myself from my own fears, but from Ranma. To bind all my emotions and past away, so that I could care for him. If I were to be selfish, I would lose him for sure.

I had every right to be selfish. All this time, I had put his safety, his life, his health and welfare on the line, forgetting about my own. I saw my family and my sisters in a new light. Internal suffering, because I didn’t listen to them. Didn’t heed their good advice, and ended up being brutalized by a man I loved. It wasn’t just Ranma that needed help, it was me too. What kind of person accepts abuse just like that?

* * *

Kasumi Tendo had been out shopping early that afternoon when it started to rain. She had, at first, taken shelter in the local mall, and gotten absorbed in the variety of things there. It wasn’t often she stayed out for too long, not unless it would better benefit the household.

Herself, Akane, Ranma Nabiki, Genma, and Father. Six people in the crowded Tendo household. Each had their own separate things to do each day, so when they came home, Kasumi made it her duty to have everything ready. It was part of the Anything Goes teachings, she supposed. Having everything and anything ready, for any situation. How ironic—everyone viewed her as the pacifist, abhorring fighting, and not knowing how to fight if it meant her life. But Kasumi had her own ways of fighting. Sometimes with words and tone of voice, other times with cooking.

Never having really thought about herself that much before, Kasumi wandered the mall idly, taking in all the sights. She saw clock and crystal shops, clothing and leather stores, restaurants of all varieties, and so many knick-knacks that she was tempted to spend the rest of her shopping money on some of them, if just to spice up her room a bit.

But soon she grew bored, and realized why she never came here. It was no fun to go shopping alone. Kasumi wished that her sisters—both of them—were here. She wished then, thinking of Akane, that she would learn to control her temper, so she could better get along with Ranma. Kasumi wasn’t oblivious; she saw the romantic tension between the two. One day they would take matters into their own hands, and elope.

Kasumi wasn’t wishing for such a romantic tryst; she simply **knew** it would happen. Ukyo and Shampoo were both nice girls who had gone through hard times because of Ranma, but it wasn’t completely his fault. Genma had to learn responsibility, while Ranma learned some common sense. Then maybe Ranma could learn to deal with his ‘other problems’ before he went off and followed his heart—which Kasumi knew he was apt to do… eventually.

In any case, she was trapped in the mall, waiting for the torrential rains to subside. When she passed by a teenager’s trinket shop, she ran into a mother who lived in the same neighborhood as the dojo.

“Oh, hello Ms. Adachi!”

Ms. Adachi turned around, surprised.

“Hello, Kasumi! What are you doing here? I thought you hated malls?”

Kasumi chuckled a little bit and shook her head. “No, I’ve just never been to one before.”

“Really? So how are you enjoying it?”

“It’s uh… interesting,” Kasumi fumbled for a proper word.

“Hah, you sound like me. I don’t know how Momo and her friends can stay here for hours on end!” Ms. Adachi laughed.

“I’m also stuck here until the rain stops. I suppose I could get an umbrella; my old one’s broken.”

“Well if that’s the case, I can give you a ride home. I have my car with me,” Ms. Adachi offered.

“I couldn’t impose…”

“No imposing! I’m on my way home anyway. But you should probably pick yourself up an umbrella anyway; the forecasters have said the rainy season has just begun!”

“Oh my… well I’ll have to do that then. Thank you very much, Ms. Adachi.”

“No problem. And please, call me Ririka. We’ve known each other for so long, from those neighborhood cooking club meets anyway.”

“Yes, thank you, Ririka.”

The two made their way to a small shop offering umbrellas, and purchased a small one with roses printed all over it. They made their way through the torrential rains under their own separate umbrellas, allowing themselves to get a bit wet when they entered Ms. Adachi’s two-year-old car.

Having small chit-chat throughout their fifteen minute ride, Kasumi finally arrived at home. A strange feeling had crept its way into Kasumi’s heart as they approached the dojo, and she was eager to get inside.

“Thank you, Ms. Adachi!”

“It’s Ririka, Kasumi. And sure, anytime! See you at the next meet!” Mrs. Adachi waved from her window as she drove off, leaving Kasumi standing in front of the dojo, her umbrella up and her shoes quickly getting submerged in a puddle.

Kasumi decided to enter through the laundry room door, where she could dispose of her shoes and socks to dry them off. Doing so, she entered the hallway, and heard some odd sounds… coming from the living room.

* * *

“Goddammit, stop!” Ranma was yelling at my twin as she fell. She was crumpling to the ground as if being physically attacked, but the other Ranma—her Ranma…her **husband** was only speaking.

Another me wasn’t weak, wasn’t losing fights. She just couldn’t fight them. Those times when I had wondered what it would be like to **really** fight Ranma were in front of me. Ranma wouldn’t willingly fight me, or I him, unless something horrible happened to either of us, and we lost control of ourselves.

Such was the case with my twin here, lying on the ground with sobs racking her form. I wanted to go help her and just kick this other Ranma’s ass into the stratosphere, but I couldn’t. Not for the same reasons as my double, mind you. I had the mind and the ability to. Perhaps what I lacked was the courage. Or maybe I really didn’t have the ability—considering there was a strange, dome-like anomaly in front of us. Us being myself and my… well, the Ranma of **this** time. It was strange to refer to Ranma as ‘my’ but that was exactly what my double had been doing when referring the Ranma of this time and to me.

In any case, I was forced to watch my double get beaten by her husband, and for no reasons at all. He was angry, that much I could tell, and apparently his emotions fueled the strange sonic attacks my double was getting injured by.

“What is going on here?” a familiar voice spoke, with a tone of seriousness, commanding attention. I turned to see my sister, and relief filled me. Unlike the many martial artists of this ward, who could fill one’s heart and mind with instant fear and intimidation, Kasumi wielded a far greater power—that of calm. I don’t know, and don’t think I ever will, understand how around her, people simply relax. It’s not magic, and she sure as hell isn’t a martial artist… but I guess it’s just her way. Her lifestyle and attitude command that kind of feeling from people around her.

Even my double and her husband faced Kasumi, astonishment plain on both their faces. Actually, my double seemed more significantly relieved, especially when the mirage-barrier preventing either Ranma or myself from getting to my double… disappeared.

However, my double did not jump up and run away from her abusive husband as I thought. No one spoke for a moment, and I was afraid that it would all start over again, and this time, Kasumi would be caught in the line of fire. I couldn’t let that happen—to my sister, any less than I could let it happen to my other self.

“Please, Ranma, love. I didn’t betray you… or lie to you. I would **never** …”

“Akane…” her husband said, a warning tone creeping into his voice. The fear rose in me once more, and my legs were powered to go and dog-slide the other Ranma, and just get the hell out of there ASAP.

To hell with honorable fighting; it’s not as if her husband was exactly being honorable by being accusatory and cruel to his own wife! It surprised me that a Ranma—any Ranma – could be capable of such violence. But I had no idea how he’d been raised, or what he had gone through. I was not my double. I was thankful, for the first time in 18 months that I cared to admit, that Ranma was the way he was. Even if he was a jerk half the time.

I stepped forward, barely a decimeter, when an arm stopped me. I turned to my right and saw my own sister holding me back, shaking her head resolutely. I sighed and stayed still. I don’t know what my sister expected to happen, but she believed strongly in the non-interference of fights, unless lives were at stake. How could she see what I didn’t, when it seemed so obvious that her husband was battering my own double?

“No!” My double got up on shaking legs, startling me. Despite the obvious and overwhelming force of her husband’s power, she still had the will to rise! I started seeing more of myself in her, and I wished that I had her courage and spirit.

“If you’re insistent on fighting, then I’ll fight! But as a Tendo, and not as a Saotome!” She relaxed from her fighting pose, stray tears making their way down her face as she hiccuped.

“But I don’t want to fight you. I don’t think I can, not with all my heart in it. And what’s a fight worth when one person doesn’t want to? When they don’t have a cause to fight for? I love you, Ranma.”

The other Ranma seemed bewildered, yet suspicious at this. I was blushing madly, for my part, glancing back at my own fiancée as my double proclaimed her love for her Ranma. He was blushing too, and pulling at his collar. Could I hope…?

“But you… you **lied** to me!” my twin’s husband cried, his anger mounting once more.

“About what!? What did I **lie** about to you, Ranma? Tell me!” my twin demanded, defiantly staring him in the eyes. The space between them was dangerously close, as she dared him to try and attack her. For a moment, I thought he would, but…

He dropped his guard. Down, just like that. He relaxed, looking right back at her. His face was almost expressionless, as he tried to read the emotions fueling his wife’s discomfort and defiance.

“You… you…”

I think one of the moments I enjoyed the most was when I proved Ranma wrong. He always thought himself right, when it came to everything in the world. But he knew from experience and brutal first fights that his own damned common sense was far from complete and worldly.

“The woman you saw me speaking to, **Ranma** ,” my twin emphasized with much force in her voice, “was your mother.” At that, Ranma—both ‘mine’ and my twin’s faltered. At the same time, they whispered, “Mother…?”

This was the clincher, wasn’t it? Ranma’s greatest weakness had never been cats, or his inability to adapt as immediately as he desired. It was his mother. The woman he’d grown up without. Lessons he could have had, experiences he couldn’t relive, and the pain of seeing her, but not really allowed to **be** with her, as her son.

“Yes,” my twin whispered solemnly, loud enough for us all to hear. She looked at her husband in the eyes, her anger and defiance gone. She was relaxed now, smiling as best as she could manage, her lip trembling and tears still coming down her face.

“I love you Ranma. If you’re worried about that ritual seppuku…”

Both Ranmas flinched; her husband was still looking at his feet. He deserved any guilt and shame he felt, I was sure of it. As for my twin, I wondered if she thought he deserved any more pain. She cared for him so much. We seemed similar at first, but I guess there was a lot we didn’t have in common. A reason why she was so devoted to someone who hurt her so… but maybe, that was how I was too.

“I told your mother that I would accept it, if she found you unworthy of the binding compact.”

Again, both Ranmas looked surprised; her husband looked ready to protest, but the impact of her words—the seriousness of it—startled even me.

“You would do that… for me?”

Without thinking, I murmured the same thing as my twin—“Yes.”

Any day of the week, any moment. Maybe I was wrong yet again—maybe my twin and I had suffered the same, and only wanted the best for people that we thought didn’t deserve to suffer any more than they already had.

The Ranma of this time— **my** Ranma came up beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder. For once, I saw a true emotion in those eyes. One I wasn’t afraid of, or unsure of. He smiled at me, if a bit hesitantly I leaned on him, and he put his arm around my waist.

“Why would she even want to meet me… after everything I’ve done? Lied to her… hurt you…” My twin’s husband drooped his head in a despairing manner.

“She knows you’re a very manly man. She never took that damned contract seriously anyway, love, but she still wants to meet you. She loves you.”

“Does she… she know?” Ranma was referring to his curse, I was sure.

“Yes. I explained to her… **everything**. The curse, the cure… she’s a bit upset with your Father, but I expected that. But neither of you will have to lose your life because of your ‘manliness,’ rest assured.”

“We need help, Ranma,” my twin continued, taking her husband’s hands. She managed a glance in my direction, and smiled at the display of affection Ranma and I were sharing.

“Not you, not me, but both of us. There are things both of us need to know about each other if this marriage is supposed to keep working. And I don’t know about you, but I do… I really want this to work. I love you. People have told me I’m crazy for loving you, stupid even, but I can’t help it. Gods, I’ve been silly enough to try and fall out of love with you, but I just… **can’t**.” She smiled at her upset husband and seemed to force some life back into him.

“Do you want to try?” she asked, deadpan.

The once dark-Ranma, the Ranma responsible for beating and abusing my twin… smiled. It was strange. He’d shown up in the house looking like a shadow or… excuse the irony, an evil twin. With an attitude so unlike the Ranma like mine, a history I couldn’t even begin to fathom, and a wife… **me** , in a manner of speaking… he was the epitome of what I considered a permanent enemy. No excuses, no second chances. Anyone who beat on a girl was more than a few light bulbs short of a chandelier.

That’s when I realized that was the way Ranma thought. The way I hated. But seeing a different me being beaten—fighting Ranma the way I had always wanted, I saw the logic and… what was it? Perhaps kindness in Ranma’s reasoning. It made sense now. If I wanted to avoid getting abused, whether I ‘asked for it’ in the form of sparring or not… I didn’t want to end up like my twin. I wanted to know all I could about Ranma before leaping into marriage with him. You would have thought 18 months could have taught me more about the man that was my fiancée, but perhaps it was not so. I still had 16 years of past to learn about. So did he.

“Yes. I–I can’t do it alone.” My twin’s husband seemed as though he were admitting a great weakness, and both of us felt proud of him. One day, ‘my’ Ranma would be able to do the same thing. There were no more doubts or questions, I was sure.

“Good.” My twin straightened up, forcing her husband to look up and smile at her. They had a long way to go, but I believed they could both get there. With each other, testing each other’s strengths and weaknesses… I only hoped Ranma and I could share that level of intimacy one day. Speaking of my fiancée, I was still comfortably in his arms, very near that ‘snuggling’ I used to gag at so much.

“Can we go home now?” my twin asked her husband.

“Why should I have every say in this marriage? It’s a two-way road.” He smiled, allowing his wife to take his hand and lead him to where her bag had been placed. From it, she removed the Nanban mirror.

Ranma and I exchanged a glance. So **that** was how she had gotten here. We didn’t need to know how the other Ranma had gotten here; he had displayed enough power for us not to ask.

“Just… one thing,” my fiancée spoke up. The other Ranma and Akane looked up at us, curious expressions on their faces. It felt strange to be looking at ‘mirror’ reflections of us… forgive the pun (they **were** holding the Nanban mirror, after all) being so open with each other. Or at least my other self was being open with her husband. The other Ranma had a bridge to cross in that area.

“What… what made Mom… uh, **your** Mom,” Ranma gestured to his other self, “Forgive all the stuff? Being gone all the time, and lying about the curse, and stuff? What proved his manliness if she’d never even met him as her son?” Ranma asked from experience, having agonized and fought against his own father for the right to meet his mother. Having been close to seppuku, but earning his mother’s trust and love in the end.

My double smiled at him, “That was more than one thing.” My fiancée sweat-dropped, but prodded for an answer with his body language—tilting his head forward in earnest, awaiting an answer. I must say, I was a bit interested to hear the answer, and so was Kasumi, standing calmly and silently beside me, one ear tilted towards the couple.

“It’s simple, really. I’m pregnant.” My other self smiled.

“WHAT!?” Both Ranmas, Kasumi and I yelled, all at once.

“Time to go!” Akane said, grabbing her husband’s arm. She must have forced herself to cry (an easy task, considering; but were her tears happy or sad?) while turned around, and so activated the Nanban mirror. She whispered softly to the mirror, and flashed one last smile at us.

“Take care of each other!” Kasumi yelled at their fading forms. They waved, smiling, as the blue light faded, and our living room was left empty once more. Silence reigned for a good five minutes before I spoke.

“Well, that was interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _End of Chapter 2: Different Circumstances_
> 
> _You can all see why I named it that, right? And those original SL readers, here’s the original context! But it’s not over yet, oh no! In the final chapter, coming up, we go back to Akane Saotome’s world, and watch her –and her husband—go through recovery. Will it be a trying experience? What will they learn about each other? What of Akane’s pregnancy, and Nodoka, who has yet to meet her son, a soon-to-be-father?_
> 
> _All of this and more in Part 3: Healing_
> 
> _Email me, okay? [azurite [at] seventh-star [dot] net](mailto:%61zur%69%74%65%40%73%65v%65%6e%74h%2d%73ta%72%2e%6e%65t?subject=Re:%20Strange%20Love%20\(A%20Ranma%201/2%20Fanfiction\))_ [](mailto:%61zur%69%74%65%40%73%65v%65%6e%74h%2d%73ta%72%2e%6e%65t?subject=Re:%20Strange%20Love%20\(A%20Ranma%201/2%20Fanfiction\))


	3. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akane Saotome and her husband Ranma return to their world, their time. Things are supposed to be different now, but how do you incite change when it's the thing that scares you the most?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Trigger warnings for physical abuse** _
> 
> **By:** Azurite - [azurite [at] seventh-star [dot] net](mailto:%61zur%69%74%65%40%73%65v%65%6e%74h%2d%73ta%72%2e%6e%65t?subject=Re:%20Strange%20Love%20\(A%20Ranma%201/2%20Fanfiction\))
> 
> **_Trigger Warning_** _: This fanfiction contains some graphic content-- abuse is a main theme of this story, so you have been forewarned. Abuse is a very real thing, albeit not under the circumstances exactly presented here, but it is real nonetheless. If you or someone you know is the victim of abuse, get help. No one deserves to suffer, even if they are the abuser._
> 
> _**Disclaimer:** You know Ranma doesn't belong to me. This is a Drama/Romance fic, where I take liberties with their lives, the Nanban mirror, and other fun aspects of Ranma and Akane's lives. The plot however, is mine, so live with it-- and ask before redistributing. Just email me anyways. _
> 
> _**Previously, in Strange Love** : Ranma and Akane meet a double of Akane-- from a different time and place. This Akane has already been married to Ranma for the 18 months he has been at the Tendo Dojo, but she lives alone with him in an apartment. Her husband has a dark and secretive past, one Akane is determined to discover, even at the cost of her own health. Ranma loses control of his powerful abilities and hurts his wife, but one day she's fed up and takes her sister and friend's advice, and runs away. _
> 
> _Using the Nanban mirror, she makes her way to our Ranma and Akane's time... but he catches up with her. The truth is revealed about what the twin of our Akane 'lied' about, and what she's doing to help heal her husband's past pains. It turns out that she's pregnant, and Ranma's mother wants to meet Ranma-- as her son-- for the first time! With his curse in the open and a fresh start awaiting Ranma, will he take this chance, admit his love for Akane, or lose control again?_
> 
> _**Author's Notes:** Hopefully it's not confusing when I switch points of view between one Akane and the other. They're separated by a line break. Or they should be, anyway. Tell me if I've missed any place?_
> 
> _Thank you to all the reviewers for all the wonderful feedback! Initially, two poor reviews got be horribly upset (I'm melodramatic... ;_;) so I decided to rewrite it. I was so happy with the rewrite that I decide to "Star Wars" it, and make a prequel and a sequel. But partially to avoid the hassles that creating a prequel and a sequel has on FFnet and similar sites, I decided to just make the whole story three chapters long. Hopefully that's okay._

The blinding blue light became a mere haze as we neared the end of the portal that the Nanban mirror created into other times and places. I chanced one last look at my husband, at our linked hands, as the light grew blinding at the end of the tunnel.

When we emerged in our time, it turned out we were not in our apartment, as I thought we would be, but the same place we had left-- at my old home, the Tendo dojo. Only this time, Kasumi wasn't the only non-double sitting at the table. Rather, Genma, Father, Nabiki and Kasumi were all there, staring open-mouthed as my husband and I toppled out of the time tunnel, mirror in one hand, arms around each other.

It must have been an odd sight to see, considering Ranma's and my rocky past. Nabiki had been encouraging me to run away somewhere safe, and she looked purely astonished at our sudden affection. To tell you the truth, it surprised me too. It wasn't as if I believed that Ranma had changed overnight; nor had I. We both had a long way to go, but I was determined to make our marriage work.

Luckily, it was clear outside, that sunny afternoon. With my illness gone, I was free to enjoy being home on this sudden vacation.

"Akane...?" Kasumi murmured, a question punctuating the end of my name. I smiled at her and leaped into her arms, crying "Kasumi!" I was glad to be home. My husband looked a bit more uncomfortable, under the scrutiny of Nabiki. But then again, all she could do was glare at him. She probably had no idea that I had gotten him to agree to working this out without hurting anyone. It was a win-win situation, but only if we cooperated.

"What are you two doing here?" Genma asked bluntly. I turned to my father-in-law calmly. I wanted to pummel him for all the hurt he had caused my husband, and I could probably do just that, but I had to remember two important facts: he was my husband's father, regardless of his poor upbringing skills, and I had to keep him alive long enough to see his son changed-- for the better. Perhaps even to witness a decent enough punishment care of his own wife-- that he was too afraid to face! His tone expressed what he really wanted to say: 'Why aren't you two sleeping together yet?' I was surprised that Ranma hadn't mentioned my blurb about being pregnant.

I waited a dull moment before smiling devilishly. "Oh, Ranma and I decided to take... a little vacation. We decided to pop in and visit home. Old times, you know?" I slyly winked at my husband, who blinked in confusion back at me.

Knowing Nabiki would be too sharp to miss hand signals, I settled for leaning back against my husband and mentally hoping he understood that I wanted him to keep his mouth shut about being pregnant. Or maybe he was too shocked himself and forgot, or didn't have the ability to say anything! Hah, what irony that would be! My husband, with the ability to generate sonic attacks using his voice-- speechless!

Kasumi soon got us settled in, and was happily cooking dinner for six once more. I wondered how my other self's sister handled it. Kasumi, I always assumed, was relieved after Ranma and I left, having to cook less, worry less about fiancées dropping in to destroy the dinner table, and so forth. Maybe I was wrong, and she took real joy in her cooking.

"How're you feeling?" Nabiki asked. Her expression asked me why in the seven hells I was still with Ranma; I gave her a long, cold stare, and she retracted her gaze. "All right, thanks. A bit groggy... and hungry. Very hungry." I rubbed my stomach, and I think that was when Ranma caught on.

Without a word, he dragged me off to the hallway, forgetting that I had injured my wrist-- or rather, he had. I had to stop assigning blame to myself... or just to myself. It was Ranma's fault for that too. But so many other factors contributed to all this mess... Anyway, I knew Ranma was probably going to ask me if I was telling the truth about being pregnant. Oh, I was alright. Having noted my "cycle" had fallen on the same night that I had spent in Ranma's arms, I worried. I skipped drugstore tests and went right to my gynecologist. The results the next day came with a positive-- I was pregnant.

Therefore, my only option was to run, duck, and hide from Ranma until I had sorted our marriage out. Otherwise, Ranma would look on it as another 'matter of honor' thing, and I didn't want any part of our marriage... 'contaminated' by the same silly beliefs that had nearly ruined my youth.

"Ranma," I began softly, placing a finger on his lips, "Can you promise me something?" He softened for a moment, taking hold of my hands and kissing the palm of each one. This was hard adjusting to-- a suddenly affectionate Ranma, with the mindset of a child but the body of a god. It was very, very difficult resisting these charms he suddenly put on.

"Anything," he said sincerely, looking into my eyes deeply, the same way I had done, back in the other time. I guess I really had gotten across to him. Again, nothing happened overnight, so I had to work with him, and hope... we both had to get help for all this...

"Just one thing. I'll tell you later." I sauntered off, and away from a confused Ranma. Since my back was turned to him, he didn't see my worried expression. If my plan didn't work, everything would be over. That's why I had to make it work. No exceptions, no other choices, no other alternatives.

Later that night, I was ready to break the 'news' to Ranma. He was staring out at a brilliant sunset on the rocks outside the koi pond. He skipped a single stone across the surface of the water and kept staring.

"One rock can cause so many ripples in the water. The fish get agitated and probably stay that way for a while. But no one ever notices. It's weird how life is like nature, isn't it?"

"Not weird, I guess. But life is nature. I think if anything's weird right now, it's you noticing all this." Ranma turned to me, an odd, sad expression on his face. It made me gulp and want to take another twenty minutes rethinking my plan. But I had to stay on track.

"Do you remember me asking you to promise me something?"

"Yeah." I wondered if he thought I had something romantic in mind. Hah.

"Are you going to promise?" I asked, trying to make this easier on the both of us... in a manner of speaking.

"What do I have to promise?" I gave him that look that said, 'You shouldn't ask. It shouldn't matter.' Ranma nodded firmly, and whispered a low yes. I straightened up, stared him right in the eye, and said plainly, "I want a divorce."

"W-What?!" Ranma grabbed my hands and forced me to look at him a bit longer. I felt like I was wavering, but I kept on strong. Being Nabiki's sister, I had mastered the 'If Looks Could Kill' face, not to mention countless other expressions useful in bluffing people about your emotions. He was searching for that one tiny shred of doubt I had stuffed away, deep inside me. Shoved it away into that little black, smelly, spider-webbed corner of my mind and heart, where not even his 'ways' could reach it.

"I want a divorce," I repeated. Then, "You promised." Trump card-- Ranma took promises very seriously. He sighed and nodded wordlessly.

"All right. If... if that's what you really want," his voice cracked, and that tiny voice inside me roared that I should be comforting him, not adding to his internal wounds! But logic and my own heart commanded that Ranma know my suffering-- before he knew my bliss. I could and intended to experience that bliss with him. But the good and bad came hand in hand-- he had to see that.

"Well then. I guess I'll be seeing you around." I smiled at him, though he did not look my way. I went into the house with a sigh, and bumped into Kasumi. "Hey sis, what's up?"

"I was watching you two outside... I couldn't help but overhear..."

I guess I had to explain this to someone... better Kasumi than Nabiki, at any rate.

"Akane, a week ago I would have told you that you were doing the right thing-- for you, and for Ranma. But now I'm not so sure. You and Ranma were so happy when you... appeared today. What happened?"

"I guess you could say that I saw the light," I grinned, making a bad reference to the Nanban mirror. Had it not been for my experiences on the other side of the timeline, I would not have had the guts to 'divorce' Ranma, let alone walk away from him in the manner I had. "What I really mean," I continued breezily, making sure neither my parents, nor Ranma or Nabiki were nearby, "Is that I'm going to give Ranma some time to sort out things, and then..."

"And then...?" Kasumi was actually leaning forward in anticipation. Either Ranma and I had brought more excitement to her life than we thought she needed, or she actually was desperate for gossip. Something along those lines... "I ask him to marry me." I smiled at my ingenuity.

"How wonderful! Oh!" Kasumi became quieter, "I'll keep this a secret. But don't keep him depressed for too long, he might go from a maniac to a manic depressive." I blinked at Kasumi's perplexing statement as she walked back into the kitchen.

I headed upstairs to my old room. I was glad most of my stuff was still intact. What was more, I had to make everyone else believe that I was getting divorced. Then we could get remarried, if all went well, and have the baby. Not exactly in that order, I was sure, but...

I was a bit giddy at the thought of having a child. I was awfully young, and I wasn't totally sure that my body could take any more pain than I'd gone through... but it sure as hell would act as a buffer. Other women I knew talked about labor as if it were the closest thing to burning in hell, but I saw it as a new start on life. Literally, and for me, figuratively too. But if --and the word was if-- everything worked out between Ranma and I, then I wouldn't be a single mother, striving for support. I would have Ranma to protect us, and the dojo to fall back on for income.

We would start up classes at the dojo, like our dream, and I could enter college. My rotten life would finally shape up into my dream. Night had fallen quickly, and I found myself dusting everything as people went upstairs for bed. It wasn't long before I heard the heavy footsteps of my husband-- that is to say, soon-to-be-ex-husband, and a pause. Then a knock. Ah, he wanted to know if we could still sleep together.

Did he even remember or even care about that pregnancy factor? Was he here to find out if it was truth? Or maybe he'd taken it as a joke from the beginning... without turning around, I frowned, and said, "Come in."

The door opened slowly, and as I turned Ranma stepped in and closed the door. I gulped slightly before getting back to dusting, ignoring his presence at first. "Uh, I just... I..." I smiled despite myself, enjoying the fact that Ranma was speechless. So much change so quickly... but still a long way to go.

"What do you want, Ranma?" I asked it kindly, not sharply, as though I wanted to get rid of him. After all, I wanted him to think on his own for once, and not let his emotions-- or his past-- control him. I didn't want to wound him anymore.

"I just wanted to know where you were sleeping tonight."

' _Where I'm sleeping! Good one Ranma. But it won't change my answer_.'

"Not with you; I'm sorry. I'm actually getting a bit tired, I think I'll turn in right now, if you don't mind." I smiled at him, but it was not shared. He stared at me sadly, and turned around to open the door as he spoke. His hand was on the doorknob, and had it not been for that screw that I never got around to fixing, I wouldn't have known his hand trembled so. The doorknob jiggled enough for me to hear, and my heart ached.

"I'm sorry, Akane. I know you can never forgive me... but I'm sorry." He opened the door and, just as quickly, closed it. That was it. I stared at the empty space he had occupied seconds before, and wondered if what I was doing was really right. After over 18 months married to him, could I sleep without being in his arms, sensing his presence, smelling his aroma as I slept? But I had a part of him-- growing inside me.

That was my comfort as I slept that night. I reminded myself to practice what I preached-- that the bad came with the good, and if we both cooperated, this would all work out.

' _You're wrong, Ranma. I can forgive you. But "I'm Sorry" isn't what I want to hear from you. It's "I Love You_."' It was my final thought before I slipped off into dreamland, blissfully wondering about my wedding.

The next morning I was to carry out my plan. But it had to start later. I had to make everyone else --save Kasumi, whom I trusted wholeheartedly-- believe Ranma and I were really getting a divorce.

So, that's just what I announced at the table. Ranma looked supremely embarassed, Father and Genma had their mouths hanging open, and Nabiki had an odd smirk on her face.

"I don't know if you two," I said calmly, "were ignoring the faults in our marriage on purpose. Forcing it on us in the first place was a mistake you made."

"But Akane, the dojo..." My father protested. Ah-ha... trying to use the old 'dojo needs sensei and heir' story again. Well, I wasn't ready to tell anyone of my pregnancy just yet, so...

"You honestly think we would have slept together --made love--" I almost said it as though retching, but that was exactly the opposite of what I had remembered that night, "Just because you two wanted us to?"

Father and Genma turned eyes on Ranma, who was, to my surprise, not making any sort of expression, and was just staring at his hands in his lap.

"Ranma and I have to get to the Ward Office to get this whole thing sorted out, so if you'll excuse us..."

Ranma stood up abruptly, without meeting their gaze, and we walked out of the house.

As we walked along in silence, I chanced to look at him. I was also wondering about how in the world I would get him a ring-- after all, he'd never worn one, despite the fact that I did. But my wedding ring had been my mother's; it was more a sentimental token than a wedding ring. I'd never had the pleasure of having a fancy wedding ring to show off to all my friends-- I just had the simple, yet precious ring my mother had used when she married Father.

In any case, he was silent and trying to keep his distance. When he first showed up here in Nerima, he'd always walked on the fence. The first thing I'd thought was 'What a showoff.' But after we married, I thought he did it to distance himself from me. He did it every minute of the day, why not while we walked to school, too?

But then he started walking alongside me, and while it was unusual, it felt right. Then the trouble started, just because I wanted to help him. This was where it led us. I wanted to do everything I could for Ranma... I wanted a fresh start. To change the day we met to something better.

"Ranma?" I stopped, and so did he. He was about a meter in front of me, still on the fence, staring at his feet with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Yeah?" he said without turning around. I wondered: why didn't he want to look at me? Since last night, when I bluntly told him that we weren't going to be sleeping together, he'd avoided my gaze. That wouldn't do at all. I walked briskly over to him, lifted his head up with my forefinger, and stared him straight in the eyes, a half-hearted smile on my face.

"Can't we still be friends?" I remembered that first day when Ranma had arrived in Nerima. Female. Nabiki chastised him for being female-- none of us had known, at the time, of the curse. The curse was just one aspect that contributed to Ranma's behavior, and I had always thought to myself that id I could have done that day over, I would have been nicer.

' _My name's Akane. You wanna be friends?_ ' Ranma stared at me sadly. It was the first time in a while I'd been able to clearly see an emotion on his face other than anger. It was both a heart wrenching and exhilarating feeling.

"No. I don't think I can be friends with the gir-- the woman I'm in love with."

I reeled. When we first met, I wasn't Akane, I wasn't his fiancée, I was a sexless, uncute tomboy. Then I was his sexless, uncute tomboy of a wife. I thought I would always be an immature, imperfect girl in his eyes, even if my plan worked and we remarried on our own conditions and terms. But I was a woman to him-- that meant a lot. Not only that, but he was in love with me. Willing to admit it, too. I felt like crying, but I had to stick true to my plans.

"Oh. I'm... I..." I sighed.

There was no proper answer.

We walked on in silence to the Ward Office, paid the small fee, and were over and done with it within the hour. It never goes that fast, right? Maybe the gods were looking out for me, for once.

' _Am I going to get in trouble for doing this_?' Could you get penalized for divorcing someone and then remarrying them within a short while? Well, I hoped it was a short while. I had a lot of hopes lately. I didn't want to let them die. I wanted to nurture them, watch them blossom and grow. I wanted my hopes to inspire Ranma to hope again.

"Are... are you going to stay as a Saotome?" Ranma asked, a tone of hopefulness creeping into his voice. My mind was telling me to stop making him suffer, but I doubted he was some all-emotional, perfect man now. He had to know what it felt like to be on the receiving end of these words, of these events.

"No, Ranma. I can't." It was all I said.

Halfway home, we parted ways-- he back to the dojo, and me to a jewelry shop. As if you have to ask for what.

It took me a good long while to get a decent pair of rings for the both of us-- and it emptied my wallet quite a bit. But if it saved my marriage --or lack thereof, as the case was now-- then it would be worth the ton of yen I had just spent.

When I got home, it was evening, and the smell of Kasumi's cooking wafted through the air. I inhaled deeply, enjoying being home.

But there were more important matters. I waved a brisk hello to my sister in the kitchen and went upstairs. I knocked softly on the door to what used to be --and was, for last night-- Ranma's bedroom. There was a mumbled response I took for a 'come in' and so I entered. Suffice it to say, what I saw shocked me.

"Ranma, what are you doing?" I cried, astonished. Ranma looked at me --of his own free will-- and frowned saadly.

"I'm packing, what does it look like?" he replied, and went back to doing just that: packing.

"Bu-But why?" I demanded, placing my hands on my hips.

"Why not? I'm not part of this family Akane. I never... I never deserved to be your husband anyway. You did what was right for you, and for the rest of your family, and the future of the school. I can't stay here and freeload off of you guys all my life."

"Ranma!" I wanted to slap him, but settled for kneeling in front of him and frowning angrily. Goodness, he was childish. And forgetful too!

"Listen to me, Ranma. I wanted to still be friends because I do care about you. Very much. Even with your past track record," I grimaced, remembering how Nabiki had bluntly told Ranma to keep his hands off me if he knew what was good for him.

"I'm sure Nabiki, Kasumi and Father feel the same way. You may not be related to us in name, but you are family."

"No," Ranma started fiercely, surprising even me, "No I'm not. I can't..."

"Where are you going to go then?" I countered.

"The apartment!" Ranma responded defiantly, staring right back at me. For a moment, his solid expression wavered, and he went back to packing. It wasn't as though he had much here at the Tendo home anyways; it had all been moved to the apartment. But the idea of our parents had been, once I got pregnant, we would move back in the dojo, and Ranma would teach until I gave birth.

"The apartment, " I started, as though talking to a child, "is under my family's register. It was barely big enough for us teenagers, you expect your father to live there too?"

"Then I'll go out on the road!" Ranma shot back.

My anger snapped at that moment, and I did slap him. His hand flew to his cheek as he stared at me.

"I'm sorry." I said, but I knew I didn't sound sorry. In fact, a part of me was glad, for once, that I had gotten a hit in. Ranma, who had caused me all number of pain, was the man I was in love with... I divorced him, argued with him, and then slapped him. Now I felt horrible.

"Ranma, you are not leaving," I said plainly. I wanted to add 'me' there at the end, but I swallowed the word at the last second, remembering why I was doing this. Was it cruel? Was it wrong? I had to believe it wasn't, not completely. I was a good person --at least, I wanted to be, thought I was trying to be-- and somewhere, deep down, I knew Ranma was, too.

"W-What do you expect me to do," Ranma asked, voice cracking, "Stay here... watch you fall in love with someone else and have his children...?"

I wanted to laugh out loud. I shook my head a negative and managed a weak smile.

"Who says I'm going to fall in love again?"

"Who says you won't?" Ranma countered, swallowing.

"I can't," I responded simply, triggering a confused expression on Ranma's face. "I'm already in love."

In that moment, it looked as though Ranma's world shattered. The old Ranma would have beaten the information out of me-- and then beaten whoever I ended up saying I was in love with. What a sight it would be to see Ranma beat up himself!

I had thought about doing this months from now, but with Ranma thinking he had to pack up and disappear from my world entirely... I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't, not without trying to explain myself.

I pulled the ring box out of my sweater pocket and opened it to him. I got down on one knee, classic Western style, and stared up into Ranma's eyes.

"Ranma Saotome, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband..." I paused, "again?" Ranma looked at me as though I'd grown a second head, then he gulped, an all too hopeful look on his face. It was puppy-cute.

"Akane... do you mean it? After everything I've done?"

"Hey. I made you think I wanted to divorce you because I didn't like you. Did you forget what I said in the other world-- that I wanted to make this marriage work, no matter what it took?" I took his hands and smiled.

"What do you say?" I proposed, (in the literal sense) smiling.

"What do I say..." Ranma pretended to think hard for a minute, and I chuckled. He took the ring from the box and slipped it on his left hand's ring finger. He stared at it a moment before looking back up at me. "I love you, Akane Tendo." He gave me a hug that practically squeezed the air out of me. I winced as a particularly fresh bruise was pushed, and I felt my barely-noticeable swollen belly lance with pain. I think he noticed that, because of the pain, I did not hug back, and he pulled away.

"Are you all righ-- what a stupid question. I'm sorry, I forgot..." I wondered just what he had forgotten-- that I had more injuries than spots on a Dalmatian, or that I was pregnant. The more I thought about it, the more I figured Ranma must have a very odd selective memory.

"I... should stay away from you..." Ranma looked down despairingly, and my eyes narrowed.

"You're wearing that ring, Buster, so you're stuck to me!" I huffed, pulling him around to face me.

Ranma smiled and hugged me lightly. It was a wonderful feeling. I still knew we had a long way to go, but...

"Don't you have a ring?" Ranma asked, picking up my left hand and kissing it softly. I blushed and giggled goofily, and reached with my right hand into my pocket. I was about to open the ring box containing my matching ring, but Ranma plucked it from my fingers.

"I never got the chance to do this right." Ranma smiled at me, as he knelt on one knee. Even though I had done this very same thing only moments before, I felt as though I was flying-- a glorious, tingling feeling that spread throughout my veins. This was what adoration felt like?

"Akane Tendo, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Ranma smiled up at me, and without answering, I flung myself into his arms. Sitting sprawled in his lap, he placed the engagement ring on my left hand's ring finger. I smiled and laughed with him, kissing him deeply.

"Am I inter-" Nabiki paused, and both Ranma and I stared at her in guilty embarrassment. She paused, looked around, and then looked at the heap that was us on the floor. Raising her eyebrow, she simply said, "I don't think I'm ever going to understand you two."

Ranma and I laughed after Nabiki had left and shut the door, giggled and kissed some more, and then fell asleep peacefully in each other's arms, on Ranma's old futon.  

The next day, Ranma and I had school, and we were delighted to be able to take our old route once more. When we walked into the school grounds, arm in arm, eyes not leaving each other's faces, people stared at us. I heard the whispers of "Is that really Ranma?" and "What's gotten into them?" and it only made me smile more. Whenever there was a break, my girlfriends crowded around me as I showed them the engagement ring. I declined to give out details about the proposal-- I believed it would only embarrass Ranma if everyone knew I had done the proposing.

The day went by all too quickly, and everyone seemed genuinely surprised that Ranma was "a changed man"-- or at least, on the road to being a changed man. He actually talked to other guys-- guys who had before ignored him for his brutality, strength, and cold attitude. I didn't blame them-- they at least didn't have to sleep with him.

But now I was proud to be wearing Ranma's ring, and proud once again to be his fiancée. I think what made this all the better was the fact that, although Ranma and I had technically divorced and then gotten re-engaged, Ukyo and Shampoo kept their distance.

Maybe they were still unsure of what Ranma was like-- as if Ranma was putting on a façade to fool everyone. But my happiness was genuine, sincere, and true. If anyone doubted that, they were being too prejudiced.

"Where are we going?" Ranma asked as I led him down a busy street in the downtown area of Nerima, blindfolded.

"Just wait," I said mysteriously, giggling to myself. This was my method of sealing everything. Making everything right to the best of my abilities. People had said before I didn't have to, that I wasn't the one who needed to atone... but they were wrong.

I directed my fiancée to a booth in the local Crown Parlor, and waved to a woman I knew very well. Ranma knew her very well too, but not the way he thought. I whipped the blindfold off his eyes, and he was disoriented a minute before he looked around, and then at me.

"What are we doing at--" He stopped when I pushed his head in the general direction of his mother. She sat in the booth calmly, hands folded in her lap. There was no trace of anger, no katana or tanto, no ceremonial kimono used in seppuku ceremonies.

"Hello, Ranma, my son." Ranma stared for a minute, and then collapsed into the booth, staring. All was silent for a moment, until I slid in next to him, and ordered when the waitress came over.

"You weren't kidding. You really..." Ranma was speaking to me, his eyes wide.

"You thought I was lying about meeting your mother? No."

"Akane is a very strong girl who has been through a lot, Ranma. She told me everything, but I am not angry with you. I'm... a bit disappointed, but still very proud."

"Of... me?" Ranma asked, almost whispering, disbelieving.

"Yes. Your father did not do a very suitable job in raising you, but Akane tells me you are still very honorable..." She cast a secretive, happy smile at me, and my hand fell to my stomach, rubbing it softly. "...and very manly."

Ranma blinked blankly. He obviously had forgotten. Resisting the urge to slap him upside the head, I took his hand, placed it on my semi-swollen belly, and told him in plain words... "Ranma, I'm pregnant."

That's when he passed out.

Nodoka and I called a cab, and went to Nodoka's house. It had been rebuilt after Ukyo, Shampoo, and --did I forget to mention this insane chick enamored on my husband?-- Kodachi destroyed it in an all-out fight over Ranma. Of course, it hadn't mattered in the long run, when Nodoka had said rather firmly that Ranma had no other engagements besides mine, and considering we were already married, there was nothing to be done about it.

Everything had a fresh and new smell to it-- sort of like the hotel room where I'd first met Nodoka in private, to discuss Ranma.

After the destruction of the house, Nodoka stayed at a hotel.

Because of Genma's stubbornness, an invitation to stay at the Tendo home had not been extended, and Nodoka, ever the polite woman she was, had stayed at a residential hotel for the several months it took for her home to be rebuilt. Of course, most of the cost was not her own; she had home insurance, and forced Ukyo, Shampoo, and Kodachi to pitch in their own monies to pay for the reconstruction of the house.

In any case, my once-husband-now-fiancée was now sprawled on the couch, his mouth hanging open.

“You didn’t tell him?” Nodoka asked me, while she made something to wake Ranma up in the kitchen.

“Oh, I did. But he has this… tendency to forget things.” Nodoka laughed a little, and turned from her concoction on the stove to me. She sat next to me on the two-person mini-couch, and gave me a motherly smile. It was odd… I’d never felt that kind of happiness… or at least, I hadn’t for the longest time. Since my mother had… well.  

“I know that you two need the most help you can get. But I hope you both –or at least you do, so you can get the message across to my forgetful son here—know that what has happened isn’t entirely your fault.” I nodded, knowing this to be true.

For the longest time, I’d blamed Ranma’s bouts of blindness, and wild, uncontrollable anger on myself. Not on the girls, or the friends, or the family issues that always upset Ranma, nor my husband himself.

I placed the blame solely on myself.  

“I do. But I don’t Ranma to ever have to feel the way I felt… that everything was my fault, and that I couldn’t do anything about it.”

I paused.

I remembered my other self, and the other Ranma. From the other world, the other time, with a different life. If I was anything like my other self, then that sort of action—taking blame automatically—was instinctive. Having grown up with burdens, it was just the way we were. I was. Whatever.

“You both are at least making the attempt to do something about it. But you’re not alone in this. I think it’s not just marriage counseling that we need,” Nodoka paused, and I furrowed my eyebrows.

‘ _We?_ ’

“My husband and I… need to talk. We also need marriage counseling. Soun as well, needs some… insight into the reality of marriage. I think that since he lost Kimiko, he hasn’t been able to think completely straight.” I sighed a bit at that—it was true. Maybe we—the Tendos and the Saotomes… would never have a chance at a normal life, but we could at least find a way to accept the one we had. Learn from it, love it, cherish it, and fight for it. I, at least, knew I would. 

“Ugh…” Ranma groaned, and both Nodoka and I rushed to his side, kneeling on the floor. The scent of herbs that Nodoka had been boiling was filling the room, and no doubt had irritated Ranma’s senses enough to awaken him.

“Son… are you alright?” Nodoka asked, hovering over him.

“Mu-Mom? MOM!?” Ranma sat bolt upright, and stared. Blinked twice, then glanced at me. I smiled. Ranma looked as though he was going to black out again, but I moved behind him and held him up.

“Oh no. You have no idea how heavy you are, mister, and I am not carrying you outside again because you feel like passing out.”   Ranma grinned sheepishly and then forced himself to sit up properly.

“I… I… I don’t believe it,” he finally managed, looking between Nodoka and I.

“What?” I asked, gesturing to his mother, “Your mom, or,” I gestured to my belly, “Me being pregnant?”

“Uh…” Ranma blinked. Nodoka and I smiled at each other, and decided to let Ranma in on everything. From how we had met, to what we had said… it was going to be a long night.

I called Kasumi up later that night, and told her we would be staying at Nodoka’s house. Kasumi sounded a bit surprised at the name of her sister's mother-in-law, but her voice remained cheery. Before she hung up, I made a quick request to be put on speakerphone. When I heard the echoing click that confirmed this, I handed the receiver to Nodoka.

“Genma Saotome, I’m going to have a word with you tomorrow. And if you try to get out of it in any size, shape, or form, you’ll be sure to be in a world of pain.” Her voice was completely serious, but she was smiling as she said the words--but Genma didn't know that.

Nodoka smiled playfully at my husband and I, letting us in on the ‘joke’ as she hung up.

Ranma and I practically burst out laughing. For once, Ranma seemed to enjoy laughing at the expense of his father. I think we all appreciated it at least a little. Maybe Genma had an excuse as well, but he was more misguided of his own doings than any of us.    

The next day, Ranma, Nodoka, and I all took a cab to the dojo --home for Ranma and I—in order to surprise everyone.

On the way there, however, Nodoka brought up an interesting subject.

“Since you two are getting married –again- I would like to know what your plans are.”

“Well, uh…” To tell the truth, I hadn’t thought about it much. Our last wedding had been so shotgun, so far away in the past, that I didn’t even think about the one that was due to come up. Like any other girl, I’d had dreams of what I wanted my dream wedding to be like… and those nights between our “divorce” and now, when I’d imagined Ranma and I back together again… I couldn’t remember what had made my heart race. All that came to mind when I thought of that was… Ranma. Just him.  

“I guess to me, it doesn’t matter. I just love Ranma, and that’s all there is to it.” Ranma blushed crimson, and I snuggled deeper into his embrace. I was so much closer to knowing my fiancée, and knowing myself. It was a great feeling.

“Well… I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to miss my only son’s wedding. It was bad enough I missed the first one, so this one is going to be spectacular!” Nodoka smiled brightly, and I returned the smile in kind. I would definitely like having Nodoka as a mother-in-law.  

Days later, the entire Tendo and Saotome families found themselves sitting in a medium-sized gray room, with vertical blinds in a sickening shade of beige. It was a hospital, the psychiatric ward to be precise.

Now, don’t get me wrong, we weren’t all here to commit ourselves. We’d signed up for a group therapy session, and after much arguing, had gotten marriage counseling for both Ranma and I as well as Genma and Nodoka.   Four people in normal attire walked in with clipboards and smiled at us. I glanced tentatively at Ranma, and he smiled back. Every step is a journey, someone once said. Well, here’s to the journey.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of “Strange Love”
> 
> _I think I may do an epilogue… you know, with the conclusion of counseling, missed conversations you guys might want to see, and of course, the wedding and eventual birth of Ranma and Akane’s child. Boy or girl? You tell me!_


End file.
